


Book Two: Crowe Legacy: Into the Fire -- Book TWO

by WichitaRed



Series: Crowe Legacy [1]
Category: Personal Piece - not a fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 61
Words: 143,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27067990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WichitaRed/pseuds/WichitaRed
Summary: This is not a fandom/fanfic but a personal piece of fiction created by Wichita RedCrowe Legacy: Into the FireThrough Moment in Time we have traveled with Lafayette, Thaddeus, and the rest of the Crowes as they have tried to live their lives as the Missouri Border War swirled about them. Now, the War has come for them and they have retribution on their minds and revolvers in their hands. Leading the Crowe Rangers, the brothers must deal with the regrets and anguish that War brings while trying to remain true to themselves.
Series: Crowe Legacy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975555
Comments: 24
Kudos: 1





	1. Language Translator

The Crowes are a mixed heritage of Louisana French, Celtic, and Frontier America. They and their companions use a pidgin language of purloined words.

From the Crowes, it will be primarily French, and they are speaking; please keep in mind they are not even attempting to speak French as a native would. They use pieces and parts they were raised with, and as they wish, much as a modern speaker uses slang.

As a writer, I also recognize not all forms used wherein are correct…such as _bonn_ is masculine, and _bonne_ is feminine. Yet, in writing the broken pidgin, I chose to use only one form, in most cases. This was done to limit the variety of words, making learning and reading smoother. In the same vein, since the characters speak bits and pieces, it is not generally grammatically correct. For example, in François, it is " _le homme Francais_ ," while in pidgin, it reads "the French _homme_ ," either way, it is still "the French man." 

There are a few instances, full François is spoken. Do not panic; these times are rare, and you will also find sound reasoning for the character speaking in French. The French will be grammatically correct at these times, with the English translation being placed in a footnote.

Please, do not be put off by the Crowe's pidgin. You will find it brings them more to life, adding to their personas. Furthermore, you will also be amazed at how quickly you will be reading right through the words, knowing precisely what they mean. –Sincerely, Nichole

**French-Creole Numbers**

One: une Two: deux Th ree: trois Four: quatre Five : cinq 

Six: six Seven: sept Eight: huit Nine : neuf Ten: dix 

French-Creole Terms for Men & Women 

mâle – male femelle – female 

hom m e – man femme – woman 

garçon – boy fille -- girl 

mari – hustand femme – wife 

père – father mère – mother 

fil – son fille – daughter 

frère – brother sœur – sister 

petit frère – little brother petite sœur – little sister 

frère cadet -- younger brother sœur cadette – younger sister 

grand frère – big brother grande sœur – big sister 

grand frère – elder broth er sœur ainée – elder sister 

oncle – uncle tante – aunt 

neveu – nephew nièce – niece 

cous in – cousin cousine – cousin 

grand- père – grandfather grand-mère – grandmother 

petite fil – grandson petite fille – granddaughter 

chéri – darling, endearment chérie – darling, endearment 

Monsieur – gentleman, adult male Madame – married lady 

abbreviated such as Mr. – M. abbreviated such as Mrs. -- M me. 

Mademoiselle – unmarried lady

abbreviated such as M iss: M lle. 

m essieurs – group of gentlemen mesdemoiselles – group of ladies 

Creole-French-Irish-Latin

à bientôt see you soon

à vrai dire to tell you th e truth 

ami friend

amis friends

amour love 

arrivée arrive 

au contraire on the contrary, opposite 

au revoir good bye 

bairn Scottish......babe, child

bienheureuse Marie blessed Mary 

bienvenue welcome 

bonne good 

bonne nuit good night 

beauté beautiful 

bébés baby 

belle pretty 

bleu blue 

blanc white 

bonjour hello 

café coffee 

cadet younger, youngest 

c’est this is, that is, it is 

chambre bedroom 

chien dog 

chère dear 

cheval horse

Chevalier horseman, cavalryman

considered deem, think 

copains friends, pals 

dauphin prince 

deartháir Irish…. brother 

désolé sorry 

devoir duty 

Dieu God 

diplomatique diplomatic 

doux sweet 

doux Mère Marie sweet Mother Mary 

eejit Irish…. idiot 

enfant infant 

esclaves slaves 

étrange strange 

excusez excuse 

excusez-moi excuse me 

famille family 

faveur favor

favori favorite 

femme wife 

fleur flower 

François French 

garçon boy, young men 

gracieux gracious 

garçonnière bachelor flat, separate home for the young men of the household 

grace de Dieu grace of God 

grand elder, big 

honneur honor

indépendant independent 

J' adore I adore, I love

jamais never 

je m'en fiche I do not care 

jeune young 

je t'aime I love you 

joli pretty 

ken Scottish........know

L'Eau Sucrée Sweet Water, plantation in Louisana 

libre free 

liberté freedom 

Louisiane Creole for Louisiana 

Louisianais Creole for Louisianans 

máthair Irish mother 

mal bad 

maison home, house 

maîtresse mistress 

maladie illness

malchance bad luck, misfortune

magnifique magnificent

magnifuiment beautifully

mariée bride

mariage marriage 

matin morning

mêlée fight 

merci thank you 

merci beaucoup thank you very much 

merveilleux wonderful 

mérite d'honneur merit of honor

mes apologies my apologies 

mes excuses excuse me 

moi me 

mon or m’ my 

naïve little wisdom, knows little of the world 

nom name 

nommé named 

nom de Dieu name of God 

non no 

nouveau brand new 

oui yes 

par by 

par contre on the other hand 

pardonné pardon 

per contra Latin......on the other hand 

petite young, small, tiny, little-used for females 

petit young, small, tiny, little-used for males

pourquoi why

pour cette raison wherefore 

précieux precious 

promesse promise 

quand when 

qu’elle what 

quelle honte what a shame, for shame 

raison reason 

remercier la sainte vierge thank you holy virgin 

santé it is a shortened version of ‘to your health

sainte mère holy mother 

see herself, himself, themself 

s’il vous plaît please 

sine qua non Latin...........an essential condition, a necessary thing. 

sucré sweet, sugary, candied 

très very

très desole so very sorry 

tempère temper

toujours always 

tu me manques you are missing from me, you are a part of me, you are crucial to me 

tu me fatigues you’re annoying me 

vert green

Vieux Carré old square, Creole for French Quarter 

visite visit 

visiteurs visitors 

vœu vow 

vous you 

vraiment really and truly 

_**Creole-French Cursing** _

aller en enfer go to hell 

bâtard bastard 

bienheureuse Marie blessed Mary

bordel de merde oh fuck/oh shit 

chiant translates to ‘that pisses me off’ 

crétin mental and/or physical idiot 

Christ sur un chariot Christ on a cart 

Christ sur une Croix Christ on a cross 

connerie bullshit 

dégage piss off 

dégénéré worthless inbred 

diable devil 

doux Jésus sweet Jesus 

ferme ta gueule shut your fucking mouth 

fils de pure son of a bitch 

feu de l'enfer hellfire 

imbécile idiot, complete fool 

je m’en fou I do not care 

je m'en fous I do not fucking care 

Jésus a pleuré Jesus wept 

malheureux wretched, unlucky, ill-fated, miserable 

merde shit 

par Dieu by God 

par tous les saints by all the saints 

pour l'amour de Dieu for the love of God 

putain fuck 

putain d'enfer fucking hell 

putain en enter fucking go to hell 

qu’elle diable what in the hell 

ta gueule shut up 

va te faire you're fuck you 

visser voter screw you 

zut damn it 


	2. Character List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you feel you have lost track of someone. Also, if you look and that person is missing, please let me know so I can update. Thank you.

Character List

** The Crowes of Sienna, Harrisonville, Missouri **

Antonio Thomas Crowe (Father)

Archibald "Archie" Simpson Waverly (Katharine Crowe's deceased husband)

Benjamin (Sienna stable slave)

Eudora "Dora" Gena Lorraine Crowe (3rd living daughter of Antonio & Gena Lorraine, Thaddeus' Twin)

Gabriel "Gabe" Matthew Antonio Maximillian Crowe (1st born son of Antonio & Gena Lorraine)

Gena Lorraine Begnoir-Bueford Crowe (deceased Mother)

George (elderly Sienna House Slave)

Joe (Sienna field slave)

Joséphine "Josie/Jo" Michelle Antoinette Crowe (2nd living daughter of Antonio & Gena Lorraine)

Katharine Lorraine Abigail Crowe-Waverly (1st born daughter of Antonio & Gena Lorraine)

Lafayette "Lafe" Henri Begnoir Crowe (2nd living Son of Antonio & Gena Lorraine)

Louisa (Sienna house slave)

Marcus (Sienna stable slave)

Marie (Sienna house slave)

Margie (Sienna house slave and lady's maidservant)

Michaël "Mikey" Archibald Waverly (Katharine Crowe's son)

Peter Crowe (Free Man of Color, Overseer of Sienna, Head horse trainer)

Simone "Mams" Bueford (Free Woman of Color, Head House Servant, Nanny)

Thaddeus "Taddy/Tad" Robert Crowe (3rd living Son of Antonio & Gena Lorraine, Eudora's Twin)

Webster "Web" Eugene Bueford (free man of color, Simone's Son)

William (Sienna field slave)

** Horses of the Crowe Stable **

Appalachian Blue "Cain" - Stallion, Thaddeus' horse

Artorius Red - Gelding, one of Gabriel's horses, being ridden by Brody Johnson

Blood of Midas "Gus" – Stallion at _L'eau Sucrée_

Blood Zephyr – mare taken back from Lester Phelps gifted to Orville

Boreas Red - all-around racetrack champion, top sire of Crowe line at _L'eau Sucrée_

Boreas' Silver Angel "Nelly" -Mare, Josephine's horse at _L'eau Sucrée_

Clíodhna of Sienna "Clio" - Bell Mare/ Broodmare at _L'eau Sucrée_

Copper Belle – Broodmare at _L'eau Sucrée_

Connagáin Aillte "Coffee" -Gelding, Lafayette's horse

Demetrius – Stallion at _L'eau Sucrée_

Erebos Wind "Ebby" -Gelding, Grandson of Boreas, gifted to Fox Northrup

Gaoithe Stoirm "Storm" - Pregnant mare sold to Banker Knowles of Independence taken back from Birmingham now ridden by Common Smith

Crowe's Endeavors of Hannibal - Stallion _L'eau Sucrée_

Crowe's Highland Melody "Mel" – mare taken back from Lester Phelps gift to Jimmy Gamble

Crowe's Jefferson Jubilee – Gelding taken from Lester Phelps gifted to Zeb Collier

Crowe's Jericho Fortitude – stallion, one of Gabriel's horses, taken back from Lester Phelps now ridden by Lafayette

Leontes -Stallion - _L'eau Sucrée_

Louie's Gamble – Gelding _L'eau Sucrée_

Maia Danseur - Mare, taken back from Lester Phelps gifted to Clyde Massey

Malcolm Red – Gelding taken back from Lester Phelps gifted to Micah Stephens

Marquis Sapphire – Gelding _L'eau Sucrée_

Osage Blue Mist - Gelding, Michaël's horse _L'eau Sucrée_

Saffron Raze – mare _L'eau Sucrée_

Tears of Ophélia -Mare _L'eau Sucrée_

Vashti Red "Vash" – mare _L'eau Sucrée_

** Crowe Rangers **

**Albert** Minters (2nd cousin to the Masseys)

Archibald " **Arch** " Richard Patterson

Augustus " **Auggie** " Saulsbury Herckscher

Broderick " **Brody** " Johnson (State Guard, Gabriel Crowe's closest friend)

Charles " **Charlie** " Hammel

Clarence " **Fox** " Northrup (State Guard, Thaddeus' closest friend)

**Clyde** Fredrick Massey (State Guard, Sienna neighbor, JT's Cousin)

**Commons** Marcus Smith

Doniphan " **Donnie** " Henry Phillips

Edward " **Eddie** " Reginald Marshall

Everett Jacob Ralwins

Franklin " **Frank** " Bartholomew Willis

Gideon " **Gid** " Barnett (State Guard)

Grandville Thomas Ketchum

Hiram " **Hi** " Issac Hallar

Jackson Arthur Ericksen (Doctor, Sienna neighbor, Lafayette Crowe's closest friend)

Jeremiah Simons Burke (Home in Bates County burned by Captain Birmingham)

Jonathon " **Jon** " Severick Workman

Jonathon Thomas " **JT** " Massey (Sienna Neighbor, Clyde's cousin)

Lee Samual Ball

Micah Stephens

Michael " **Rose** " Rose

Moses " **Mose** " Daniel Judd

Nathaniel **"Nate"** Davis (son of a Baptist Minister in Pleasant Hill, Cass Co. Missouri)

**Orville** Perkins Riggs (State Guard)

Pemley " **Pem** " Clark Walker (joined in Noel MO)

Quinton " **Quin** " James Nicholson

**Rance** Anson McGreen (State Guard)

**Reed** Alexander Chaplin (Harrisonville, Son of Little Dipper Saloon Owner Stuart Chaplin)

Samuel " **Sam** " Lane Tunney

Shepherd " **Shep** " Oscar Pruitt

Stephen Robert " **Simms** " Simms

Teague Thomas Hays (youngest Ranger, 14)

**Valentine** McCain (State Guard)

Wade Jefferson Morrow

William " **Bill** " Franklin Carr

William " **Buster** " Jonathon McKenzie

Zebidiah “ **Zeb** ” James Collier

** Missouri  **

Alice Walsh – Pineville, gal working at Staghorn saloon

Ambrose Sullivan Perry – Celia's nephew, Malissa's Son

Armenia Selvey – Cole Younger's Cousin

Beth Riggs – One of Orville Rigg's younger sisters

Captain Randolph Kinney (commercial Riverboat Captain)

Celia Anne Sheldon (from Cedar County, Missouri visiting Younger family)

Charlie (Baker family's elderly, protective House Slave)

Charlotte Eliza Perry (Celia's niece, Malissa's daughter)

Colonel Octavius Barnett

Daniel "Dan" Stacey – Pineville, owner and bartender at Staghorn saloon

Davis Miner (Nevada, Son of Livery owner)

Deputy James Manning (Harrisonville)

Doctor Mathews

Eli (Ericksen Family hired man)

Elizabeth "Betsy" Baker (Hannah Baker's eldest daughter)

Elizabeth Barnett (Octavius's only daughter)

Emma Stark (wife of George, farm attacked by Jayhawkers)

Emmett Kent (Harrisonville, owner of Kent Mercantile

Frank Manning

Gilbert Brady (Harrisonville, Brady's Livery Stable)

George Miner (Nevada, Livery Barn Owner)

George Stark (husband of Emma, farm attacked by Jayhawkers)

Gregory Rufus Iverson (Iverson Barber & Bath House, son of Rufus Iverson)

Hagen Schäfer – young son of farmer Rangers rescue from Home Guard Attack

Hannah Baker

Harold "Harry" Stark (son of Emma & George, farm attacked by Jayhawkers)

Isaiah Martinson (Harrisonville, wartime Post Master)

Jacob Greene (Harrisonville, harness, and saddle)

Jack Deavers (Harrisonville Citizen)

James "Jimmy" Gamble (Crowe Partisan Ranger, Grandson of a local dairy farmer)

James Mathews – Harrisonville's Doctor

Jeb Stark (son of Emma & George, farm attacked by Jayhawkers)

Johann Schäfer – young son of farmer Rangers rescue from Home Guard Attack

John Thomas "JT" Massey (Partisan Ranger, Sienna bordering neighbor, Clyde's cousin)

Josh (the boy who was a lookout for Antonio Crowe in Independence, Missouri)

Leonie Schäfer – Wife of farmer Rangers rescue from Home Guard Attack

Liam Strathmore (Harrisonville, Owner of Strathmore Feed and Seed)

Malissa Cara Sheldon-Perry – Celia Sheldon's Elder Sister

Marcus "Marc" Stark (son of Emma & George, farm attacked by Jayhawkers)

Margaret Sophia Hildebrand (Harrisonville, owner of Maggie's Kitchen)

Marsh Gillman (farmer along Morristown Road)

Matthew Hart (Sheriff Harrisonville)

McIntosh Family (run a house of ill repute)

Mildreth Amber – Amber Boarding House, Pineville, MO

Mitchell Seaborne (joined Sterling Price CSA ranks)

Ned – Pineville, Staghorn Saloon cheated at cards with Rangers

Ottilie "Tillie" Herckscher (sister to Crowe Ranger, Augustus "Auggie" Saulsbury Sister like to marry Royal Ash)

Otto (boatman)

Patrick Morris (printer at Harrisonville. Cass County Gazette)

Peggy – Pineville, gal working at Staghorn saloon

Phillip Gillman (son of Marsh Gillman, a farmer on Morristown road)

Richard "Dick" Younger (eldest son of Mayor of Harrisonville, brother to Cole Younger)

Rory – Sherriff of Pineville MO

Rufus Joseph Iverson (Harrisonville, owner of Iverson Bath House)

Samuel Stark (son of Emma & George, farm attacked by Jayhawkers)

Samuel White (Harrisonville, pre-war Postmaster

Severin Schäfer – farmer Rangers rescue from Home Guard Attack

Skye Naylor (from Charleston, South Carolina, visiting Sawyer cousins of Clay County, Missouri)

Susan Vandever – Cole Younger's Cousin

Suzanne Reynolds (Clay County, Missouri, fiancée of William Adler)

Stuart Chaplin (Harrisonville, owner of Lil' Dipper Saloon, Father of Crowe Ranger Reed Chaplin)

Thomas Coleman "Cole" Younger (son of Mayor of Harrisonville, later a CSA Partisan Ranger)

Thomas Willer (Owner, Willer's Emporium, Harrisonville)

Thomas Knowles (Independence Banker, owner of Crowe's Vitasse Stoirm)

Ursula Martinson (Harrisonville, wartime Post Mistress married to Isaiah)

Walt Seymore – Pineville, Staghorn Saloon cheated at cards with Rangers

William Struthers Adler (son of the wealthiest families in Jackson County, Missouri)

William "Will" Dubbs (boatman)

William "Bill" Masters

William "Will" Stark (son of Emma & George, farm attacked by Jayhawkers)

** Missouri Rangers, State Guard, & Confederacy  **

State Guard - Missouri Southern Civilians & Soldiers

Partisan Rangers - Missouri Southern Raiders/Defenders

Archie Clements – Anderson Partisan Ranger – fight at Staghorn

Baker (Partisan Ranger)

Ben McCulloch - General for Confederacy, Battle of Pea Ridge

Clive Parr – Red Oak Partisan Ranger

Earl Van Dorn – General for Confederacy, Battle of Pea Ridge

George Todd – Quantrill Partisan Ranger, one of his Lieutenants

Harry Trevors (Partisan Ranger)

Ike Berry – Anderson Partisan Ranger – fight at Staghorn

John Jarrette – Anderson Partisan Ranger – fight at Staghorn

John McCorkle – (Quantrill Bushwhacker)

John Koger- (Quantrill Bushwhacker)

Larkin Skaggs- (Quantrill Bushwhacker)

Mike- Red Oak Partisan Ranger

Royal Ash (Partisan Ranger, wants to marry Ottilie "Tillie" Herckscher)

Rye Manning (Partisan Ranger)

Sam Hildebrand (Quantrill Bushwhacker)

Silas "Cy" Gordon (Partisan Ranger Captain)

Sterling Price – Missouri Militia becomes General for the Confederate States of America

Thomas Maupin – Anderson Partisan Ranger – fight at Staghorn

William Clayton (Partisan Ranger)

** Kansans & Jayhawkers/Union Militia **

Home Guard - Missouri Unionist Civilians & Soldiers were known to team up with Jayhawkers

Jayhawkers - Kansas Unionist Abolitionist Raiders/Defenders

Red Legs - Kansas Unionist Abolitionist Raiders/Defenders with military commissions

Doctor John Doy (abolitionist known to raid/hunt with John Brown)

Doc Jennison (Jayhawk leader and Union Army Officer)

Gerald Brady Lieutenant State Guard, Lone Jack

Ed Streeper (man given up by Micah Richardson as having been with him at Sienna)

Jim Lane (Kansas Senator and Jayhawker)

John Schofield Brigadier General in charge of Missouri volunteers from nov 61- Nov 62

Johnny Phelps – Lester's son

Lester Phelps (man given up by Micah Richardson as having been with him at Sienna)

Sue Phelps – Lester's wife

Levi Shell (man given up by Micah Richardson as having been with him at Sienna)

Trent Hayden (man given up by Micah Richardson as having been with him at Sienna)

Micha Richardson (one of the twenty-five who were at Sienna)

Mathew Reynold – Major in Missouri Home Guard

Parker – the soldier Fox, captured at the abandoned farm during a sleet storm

Samuel Birmingham Major in Missouri Home Guard

Sean O'Rourke (Lieutenant Federal Solider)

Sam Benson (man given up by Micah Richardson as having been with him at Sienna)

** Vieux Carré, New Orleans, Louisiana **

Andre Michon (Freemen-of Color, Horse handlers hired at L'Eau Sucree)

Beaumont (slave at L'Eau Sucree)

Clémence LaCelle, eldest daughter of governess at L'Eau Sucree

Colette LaCelle, youngest daughter of governess at L'Eau Sucree

Connor Shelley (Boxer and dockworker, Lafayette Crowe's closest friend in New Orleans)

Eudora Antoinette Burgess – Jonathon & Josephine's daughter

Father Croix (head Cure or Father at the Saint Louis Cathedral, New Orleans)

George Belfew (New Orleans Doctor)

George Burgess (Jonathon Burgess Father)

Jacque (slave at L'Eau Sucree)

Jean LaBeau (poker player, Red Crescent Saloon, New Orleans)

Jonathon "Jon" Burgess (Josephine Crowe's fiancé, Lafayette's friend)

Julien Marrec (Freemen-of Color, Horse handlers hired at L'Eau Sucree)

Lafayette Henri & Genève Begnoir (Crowe Siblings Great-Grandparents)

Lorraine Genevieve Begnoir-Bueford (Crowe siblings Grandmother)

Lorraine Elizabeth Burgess – Jonathon & Josephine's Daughter

Louis Lafayette Begnoir (Lorraine G.'s deceased brother, husband to Blanch, Fay's Father)

Matilda "Tilly" LaCelle – live-in governess at L'Eau Sucree

Maeve (Irish Servant at Lorraine G. Begnoir-Bueford's rue de Royal house, New Orleans)

Michaël Robert Bueford (Lorraine G. Begnoir-Bueford's Deceased husband)

Mitchum (poker player, Red Crescent Saloon, New Orleans)

Odette Begnoir (Lorraine Geneviève servant)

Patrick (Irish servant boy at Lorraine G. Begnoir-Bueford's rue de Royal house, New Orleans)

Reilly (poker player, Red Crescent Saloon, New Orleans)

Roland Rasier (Freemen-of Color, Horse handlers hired at L'Eau Sucree)

Taddea Nicoloine (Lorraine Genevieve Begnoir-Bueford's deceased Grandmother)

Thomas Alvert (poker player, Red Crescent Saloon, New Orleans)

Violet (house slave at L'Eau Sucree)


	3. Chapter ONE

Chapter Two

Kneeling by Lee Ball, Lafayette asked, "How is it?"

"T'weren't too bad, Capt', until he started in," Lee answered, nodding toward Jackson, who was sewing up his arm. "Figure I will be all right, if 'n I survive his-- OW! Glory be damned, Jackson!" Lee shouted, grimacing at the point of the needle being worked through his skin.

Blandly, Jackson replied, "If’n you would kindly stop squirming like a child, I would be finished a whole lot quicker."

Releasing an amused snort, Lafayette pulled out a black cigarillo, lighting the thin cheroot, he extended it to Lee.

Taking it, Lee told Lafayette, "Hell, most likely, lose my arm, _altogether_ from the sew job."

"You are lucky,” Jackson replied, his attention locked on the jagged gash. “I do not tell you to go off and lick your wounds like an unwanted dog."

In a tone layered thick with sarcasm, Lafayette said, “Way I see it, Lee, you ought not be pesterin’ Doc. ‘Cause, no matter how terrible his stitching is... he is all we got."

Grinning like a raccoon in a strawberry patch, Lee stroked his long mustache, " I see your point, Capt’."

Jackson mumbled, "Thanks a lot, Bub," nodding toward Jonathon Workman, “either way, I will not be able to do much for him.”

Jonathon leaned against a high embankment on the far side of the road with a cloth pressed to his jaw and blood still running unhindered down his neck. Even from this distance, Lafayette could see the fear etched in the young man’s face. Slowly, he stood and, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, said. “I should go speak with ‘em.”

Looping another stitch in Lee’s arm, Jackson muttered, “I highly suggest it.”

Crossing to Jonathon, Lafayette felt every bit as young as his nineteen years. Yet, when he dropped alongside the wounded man, who had chosen to follow him, he smiled reassuringly. "How you doin’, Jon?"

Jon garbled out, "Some damn Yank blew most of my chin clear off."

Lafayette’s gut clenched. However, he kept his face neutral, quipping, "suppose, you should be pleased he had poor aim."

"Poor aim?! My chin is damn near gone along with part of my face, Capt’!"

"I know, and I wish he had worse aim," Lafayette answered, clasping Jonathon's shoulder. "But I for one am damn glad you are here, speakin’ with _moi_ and not to our Maker."

Jonathon’s shining, brown eyes grew large as Lafayette’s words sunk in.

Spotting Orville, Lafayette hollered, "Hey, Riggs, bring some of your popskull on over here. Hell of a fight,” Lafayette went on, gripping tighter of Jonathon's shoulder. “Would you not say, we showed 'em Missouri ain't an open market ripe for their pickin’?"

Jonathon nodded and grimaced, fresh tears working their way down his face.

"You did damn fine today, Jon. Damn fine. Right proud to say you are _une_ of _m’_ Rangers. Man alive, I would tell anyone how you are tougher than uncured leather."

"Thank you, Capt’."

Loping up, Orville squatted, shoving an uncorked bottle at Jonathon. “Go on and take you a pull."

Glancing at the older men flanking him, Jonathon looked uncertainly at the mouth of the bottle and then took a drink. He hoarsely gasped, his eyes watering.

Lafayette chuckled, "Yup, and that is why I call it popskull. I do not, _jamais_ , Orville, not _jamais,_ want to know what is in that brew of yours."

Smiling with great zealous, Orville asked, "you sure ‘bout that?"

"Right positive,” Lafayette replied, twitching his head toward Jonathon.

"Here now, you go on and take yourself another swig,” Orville encouraged, lifting Jonathon’s hand that held the bottle. “By damn, it is known to cure what ails you."

Comfortable, the big man would look after the boy. Lafayette climbed to his feet, surveying the area he noted; firearms and supplies had been gathered in a pile. The horses had been rounded up, along with some prisoners. Thaddeus had also separated the old negro from the mule, positioning him to rest on a burled tree root in a patch of warm sunlight.

Lafayette thought, 'all appears in hand.' Strolling toward the prisoners, he noted out of the five men; only one appeared worried about the predicament he was in; the others were too busy glaring around like puffed up roosters. With his LeMat dangling from his right hand, Lafayette kicked the nervous-looking gent in the leg, "Where you from?"

The lean mustached man with cold eyes, sitting in the middle, shouted, "Walter, don't be no ass-kisser. You keep your namby-pamby mouth closed."

Raising the LeMat as easily as one draws a breath, Lafayette shot the loudmouth in the head; and Walter yelped, sweat beading up along his upper lip, despite the chilly day.

"Now, _Walter,_ before we were so coarsely interrupted, I had asked where you were from?"

Walter drug his lower lip through his teeth, still staring wide-eyed at the twitching body.

Snagging the boy’s curly forelock, Lafayette yanked Walter’s head around. "Ain't _vous_ been taught, it is proper manners to answer when spoken to?"

Walter’s eyes rolled like a trapped animal. He tried to nod, but the grip on his hairline was too painfully secure, "I … I live east of Lawrence."

"And your companions… they from around the same area?"

Walter’s eyes slanted to the other men, and he breathed out, "yes."

Releasing him, Lafayette walked down the line, noticing they all appeared significantly less defiant, and he flashed them a smile. The same dimpled smile known to flutter ladies’ hearts, and these men's hearts also fluttered, only with a far different emotion.

Returning to a spot where he could see them all, Lafayette crossed his feet, sinking to the ground. Then heaving out a tired sigh, he laid the LeMat across his thigh. "A might far from home, ain't we _monsieurs_?" Swiping a smooth spot in the dirt, he drew his family's brand of a small ‘a’ nestled in a capital ‘c’. "This look familiar to any of y’all?"

The prisoners purposely looked elsewhere.

Rance McGreen and Brody Johnson stepped up close, and the four men shrunk into themselves.

In a cool, stern tone that made it clear he would be answered, Lafayette drawled, "be a sight easier, if 'n you would take a gander."

Each Jayhawker looked to the brand, shaking their head.

"All right. Any of you ever heard talk of Sienna?"

Once more, they shook their heads.

Taking up the LeMat, Lafayette jestfully asked, “then what, pray tell, do you know which would be worth paroling you?"

Walter licked his lips, "I do not understand."

"I deem if’n y'all dig deep; you might be able to ante up some knowledge that is worthy of say . . . your lives," Lafayette answered, pointing at each man, in passing, with the business end of the LeMat.

The men shifted.

See, I am confident, y'all _putain_ know something. Just hope,” Lafayette’s smile grew brighter, “I _vraiment_ hope, I do not wind up shootin’ you before you have divulged your confidences." Having said, this he chuckled, patting the nearest man, who had a few too many gold teeth, on the knee.

The gold-toothed man scootched backward and planting the square toe of his boot to the man’s spine; Brody casually said, “Trust me, informin’ Capt' Crowe of your various sins would be the smartest idea you have had all year."

The man looked up into Brody’s leering grin and spat out, "we took that nigger off a farm of some man called Maxwell."

“Not that helpful, as I am bettin’ the gent, over there, has already told _m’ frère_ just that.” Lafayette once more patted gold-tooth’s knee. "Instead, I want to know where y’all visited on your _petite_ tour."

"We only rode over last night."

"So, I am to understand _Monsieur_ Maxwell is the single Missourian to have enjoyed the pleasure of your company?"

The man's eyes dropped, "yes."

"Ain't y'all ashamed, attackin’ a farmer? I bet at least one, if’n not more, of all y'all are farmer's yourselves."

"He owned slaves and had more than he needed,” barked the stout man wearing a gray wool suit.

"Oh, he owned slaves,” Lafayette replied, his left dimple dipping deeply. “Well then, that makes it all perfectly copacetic, does it not?"

"Slavery is an abomination," gray suit snarled, turning his deep-set, greenish eyes to Lafayette, he grinned evilly. "Slave owners are cursed by the Lord and deserve the justice wrought by righteous men."

"I see," Lafayette responded, sucking at his front teeth. "The good book also states coveting what thy neighbor has, attackin’ an innocent, and stealin’ to all be sins. And, _Monsieur_ , even though I for _une_ , disagree with slavery. Leviticus has informed _moi_ since I could read how it is quite acceptable for a Christian to own slaves. Hell, Ephesians even lays out the ground rules on how slaves are to behave their masters. And we both know there are far too many scripture lines to quote, which extol the correct methods a man is to acquire and keep his slaves. _Feu de l'enfer,_ do not be blathering to _moi_ the words you have heard drippin’ from John Brown and his likes mouths. Besides…" Lafayette waved a hand toward his brother, who was sharing biscuits and chatting with the old negro, "... it was y'all who was holdin’ that man captive. I distinctly saw _m’ frère_ cut his bindings. So, do not attempt validating yourselves as bein’ motivated by the all-powerful greatness of equitable men abolishin’ slavery."

Gray suits’ face twisted, and he spat out, "Why he had to be tied as the damned fool refused to leave his captors."

" _Mon ennemi,_ this sounds like the prelude to an ace-high debate, however, since you have not given _moi_ anything worth paroling you.” Lafayette thumbed the LeMat’s hammer back. “I do not foresee us speakin’ much longer."

"Hold on, a dog-blasted minute," gray suit sputtered. "I heard there is a group planning to ride on Mount Pleasant."

"When?"

"Sometime later this week."

Lafayette's eyes had become dark as obsidian when he looked up at Brody Johnson. “Ride over, find a unit near Mount Pleasant. I deem Frank James or Doc Miller is currently in that region. Let 'em know; we have gained word; they just might be receivin’ _visiteurs_."

Turning on his heel, Brody headed for his horse.

"Brody?"

Halting, the broad-shouldered man looked back, "yeah?"

"Will you be stayin’ for the _danse_ or returnin’ directly?"

"Not too sure. Either way, I will find y'all around our winter campfire."

"If’n not there, then our favored tavern.” Lafayette nodded, “safe travels to you, _ami._ "

For an extra moment, Brody stared at his Captain sitting cross-legged in the dirt and had a flash of the skinny boy he and Gabriel had teased so often. The harshness slipped from his face, "Hey, Lafe?”

Lafayette looked over with raised eyebrows.

“You watch your back, all right?"

A genuine smile appeared, accompanied by a wink, “I always do." Then casually returning his attention to the prisoners, he asked. "So, who else would like to be paroled?"

"Please, this is my first time. I do not know anything, not anything at all. Honestly, I do not." Walter growled. "The drought, it hit us all so hard. We needed supplies, and I am real apologetic. Truly, I am Captain Crowe."

Lafayette rubbed at the bridge of his nose, "You and yours were without, and so you felt it was irreprehensible to force others into your same situation."

"Just did not know what to do. Crops all dried up in the field, even the deer moved out of the withered wasteland. We just have not anything, not anything."

Across his fingers that were massaging the bridge of his nose, Lafayette peered at Walter.

"Captain Crowe, I am powerful sorry. I swear by all that is holy, I am. Ma needs me at home; to help out with my three younger siblings, please, do not kill me."

Dropping his hand, Lafayette looked directly at the boy, "do _moi_ a _faveur_."

"Anything… anything at all."

"Shut your fuckin’ mouth!"

With a gulp, Walter dropped his head onto his bent knees.

Standing, Lafayette walked to the man with shoulder-length, pale, blonde hair who had purposely separated himself from the others. "You ain't had much to say."

The blonde raised his head, his face free of guilt, "Walter is correct about Kansas being a desolate wasteland."

"No one made you choose to live there."

The young man smiled, "I was born there."

"Then _mes excuses_ , _Monsieur_... ?"

"Cody. Just Cody."

"Well, Cody, you got anything to report, so you too, can go home to your Mama?"

The lanky youth surged to his feet, the fringe of his buckskin fringe rasping back and forth. "Only that you can kill me, 'cause I will not be tellin' you jack-shit."

Hearing the click of a hammer, Lafayette held a hand toward Rance. His eyes never leaving Cody's unlined, fair-skinned face with its odd, sharp, mirror blue eyes. "You ain't much more than a _garçon_ , are you?"

Cody sneered, his strange eyes boring into Lafayette. "I could say the same of you. These borderlands are my home, and I’ve found age does not matter out here, would you not agree. . . _Captain_ Crowe."

Lafayette arched one brow, " _touché,_ " and with a grin, he walked over, joining the circle of Rangers gathered about Lee. " _Une_ of you go and parole 'em. I deem, I got all, I am goin’ to get."

As Lafayette said this, Valentine McCane swaggered up, pulling a Colt, he twirled it, "we ought to shoot 'em where they sit."

Drawing the man's name out, Lafayette dryly said, " _Valentine_ , I deem slaughterin’ _une_ unarmed man is enough for _une_ day, would _vous_ not?"

Valentine’s squirrelly, blue eyes shot from Lafayette to the others who were nodding in agreement, and with a derisive snort, stomped off to catch his horse.

"Why, again, do we keep 'em?" Fox asked, sticking a finger in his left ear, which was still ringing from the noise of the battle.

"That is a good question." Jackson said, flipping his long bangs from his eyes, "Bub?"

"Because he is from Cass and holds _most_ of the same beliefs we do. And, thusly, wishes to defend those he _amours,_ just as we do. Therefore, who am I to inform 'em, he cannot ride the border as a Ranger?"

Chuffing out a laugh, Jackson responded, "You are too lenient."

Fox yawned wide, trying to pop his ears, "Damn it to hell, Capt’, you could, at least, send 'em to go ride with somebody else."

"You are correct," Lafayette answered, his eyes still on Valentine. "However, I have known 'em all _m’_ life, just as all y’all have, and somehow that makes ‘em _une_ of us."


	4. Chapter TWO

Chapter Two

Kneeling by Lee Ball, Lafayette asked, "How is it?"

"T'weren't too bad, Capt', until he started in," Lee answered, nodding toward Jackson, who was sewing up his arm. "Figure I will be all right, if 'n I survive his-- OW! Glory be damned, Jackson!" Lee shouted, grimacing at the point of the needle being worked through his skin.

Blandly, Jackson replied, "If’n you would kindly stop squirming like a child, I would be finished a whole lot quicker."

Releasing an amused snort, Lafayette pulled out a black cigarillo, lighting the thin cheroot, he extended it to Lee.

Taking it, Lee told Lafayette, "Hell, most likely, lose my arm, _altogether_ from the sew job."

"You are lucky,” Jackson replied, his attention locked on the jagged gash. “I do not tell you to go off and lick your wounds like an unwanted dog."

In a tone layered thick with sarcasm, Lafayette said, “Way I see it, Lee, you ought not be pesterin’ Doc. ‘Cause, no matter how terrible his stitching is... he is all we got."

Grinning like a raccoon in a strawberry patch, Lee stroked his long mustache, " I see your point, Capt’."

Jackson mumbled, "Thanks a lot, Bub," nodding toward Jonathon Workman, “either way, I will not be able to do much for him.”

Jonathon leaned against a high embankment on the far side of the road with a cloth pressed to his jaw and blood still running unhindered down his neck. Even from this distance, Lafayette could see the fear etched in the young man’s face. Slowly, he stood and, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, said. “I should go speak with ‘em.”

Looping another stitch in Lee’s arm, Jackson muttered, “I highly suggest it.”

Crossing to Jonathon, Lafayette felt every bit as young as his nineteen years. Yet, when he dropped alongside the wounded man, who had chosen to follow him, he smiled reassuringly. "How you doin’, Jon?"

Jon garbled out, "Some damn Yank blew most of my chin clear off."

Lafayette’s gut clenched. However, he kept his face neutral, quipping, "suppose, you should be pleased he had poor aim."

"Poor aim?! My chin is damn near gone along with part of my face, Capt’!"

"I know, and I wish he had worse aim," Lafayette answered, clasping Jonathon's shoulder. "But I for one am damn glad you are here, speakin’ with _moi_ and not to our Maker."

Jonathon’s shining, brown eyes grew large as Lafayette’s words sunk in.

Spotting Orville, Lafayette hollered, "Hey, Riggs, bring some of your popskull on over here. Hell of a fight,” Lafayette went on, gripping tighter of Jonathon's shoulder. “Would you not say, we showed 'em Missouri ain't an open market ripe for their pickin’?"

Jonathon nodded and grimaced, fresh tears working their way down his face.

"You did damn fine today, Jon. Damn fine. Right proud to say you are _un_ of _m’_ Rangers. Man alive, I would tell anyone how you are tougher than uncured leather."

"Thank you, Capt’."

Loping up, Orville squatted, shoving an uncorked bottle at Jonathon. “Go on and take you a pull."

Glancing at the older men flanking him, Jonathon looked uncertainly at the mouth of the bottle and then took a drink. He hoarsely gasped, his eyes watering.

Lafayette chuckled, "Yup, and that is why I call it popskull. I do not, _jamais_ , Orville, not _jamais,_ want to know what is in that brew of yours."

Smiling with great zealous, Orville asked, "you sure ‘bout that?"

"Right positive,” Lafayette replied, twitching his head toward Jonathon.

"Here now, you go on and take yourself another swig,” Orville encouraged, lifting Jonathon’s hand that held the bottle. “By damn, it is known to cure what ails you."

Comfortable, the big man would look after the boy. Lafayette climbed to his feet, surveying the area he noted; firearms and supplies had been gathered in a pile. The horses had been rounded up, along with some prisoners. Thaddeus had also separated the old negro from the mule, positioning him to rest on a burled tree root in a patch of warm sunlight.

Lafayette thought, 'all appears in hand.' Strolling toward the prisoners, he noted out of the five men; only one appeared worried about the predicament he was in; the others were too busy glaring around like puffed up roosters. With his LeMat dangling from his right hand, Lafayette kicked the nervous-looking gent in the leg, "Where you from?"

The lean mustached man with cold eyes, sitting in the middle, shouted, "Walter, don't be no ass-kisser. You keep your namby-pamby mouth closed."

Raising the LeMat as easily as one draws a breath, Lafayette shot the loudmouth in the head; and Walter yelped, sweat beading up along his upper lip, despite the chilly day.

"Now, _Walter,_ before we were so coarsely interrupted, I had asked where you were from?"

Walter drug his lower lip through his teeth, still staring wide-eyed at the twitching body.

Snagging the boy’s curly forelock, Lafayette yanked Walter’s head around. "Ain't _vous_ been taught, it is proper manners to answer when spoken to?"

Walter’s eyes rolled like a trapped animal. He tried to nod, but the grip on his hairline was too painfully secure, "I … I live east of Lawrence."

"And your companions… they from around the same area?"

Walter’s eyes slanted to the other men, and he breathed out, "yes."

Releasing him, Lafayette walked down the line, noticing they all appeared significantly less defiant, and he flashed them a smile. The same dimpled smile known to flutter ladies’ hearts, and these men's hearts also fluttered, only with a far different emotion.

Returning to a spot where he could see them all, Lafayette crossed his feet, sinking to the ground. Then heaving out a tired sigh, he laid the LeMat across his thigh. "A might far from home, ain't we _monsieurs_?" Swiping a smooth spot in the dirt, he drew his family's brand of a small ‘a’ nestled in a capital ‘c’. "This look familiar to any of y’all?"

The prisoners purposely looked elsewhere.

Rance McGreen and Brody Johnson stepped up close, and the four men shrunk into themselves.

In a cool, stern tone that made it clear he would be answered, Lafayette drawled, "be a sight easier, if 'n you would take a gander."

Each Jayhawker looked to the brand, shaking their head.

"All right. Any of you ever heard talk of Sienna?"

Once more, they shook their heads.

Taking up the LeMat, Lafayette jestfully asked, “then what, pray tell, do you know which would be worth paroling you?"

Walter licked his lips, "I do not understand."

"I deem if’n y'all dig deep; you might be able to ante up some knowledge that is worthy of say . . . your lives," Lafayette answered, pointing at each man, in passing, with the business end of the LeMat.

The men shifted.

See, I am confident, y'all _putain_ know something. Just hope,” Lafayette’s smile grew brighter, “I _vraiment_ hope, I do not wind up shootin’ you before you have divulged your confidences." Having said, this he chuckled, patting the nearest man, who had a few too many gold teeth, on the knee.

The gold-toothed man scootched backward and planting the square toe of his boot to the man’s spine; Brody casually said, “Trust me, informin’ Capt' Crowe of your various sins would be the smartest idea you have had all year."

The man looked up into Brody’s leering grin and spat out, "we took that nigger off a farm of some man called Maxwell."

“Not that helpful, as I am bettin’ the gent, over there, has already told _m’ frère_ just that.” Lafayette once more patted gold-tooth’s knee. "Instead, I want to know where y’all visited on your _petite_ tour."

"We only rode over last night."

"So, I am to understand _Monsieur_ Maxwell is the single Missourian to have enjoyed the pleasure of your company?"

The man's eyes dropped, "yes."

"Ain't y'all ashamed, attackin’ a farmer? I bet at least one, if’n not more, of all y'all are farmer's yourselves."

"He owned slaves and had more than he needed,” barked the stout man wearing a gray wool suit.

"Oh, he owned slaves,” Lafayette replied, his left dimple dipping deeply. “Well then, that makes it all perfectly copacetic, does it not?"

"Slavery is an abomination," gray suit snarled, turning his deep-set, greenish eyes to Lafayette, he grinned evilly. "Slave owners are cursed by the Lord and deserve the justice wrought by righteous men."

"I see," Lafayette responded, sucking at his front teeth. "The good book also states coveting what thy neighbor has, attackin’ an innocent, and stealin’ to all be sins. And, _Monsieur_ , even though I for _un_ , disagree with slavery. Leviticus has informed _moi_ since I could read how it is quite acceptable for a Christian to own slaves. Hell, Ephesians even lays out the ground rules on how slaves are to behave their masters. And we both know there are far too many scripture lines to quote, which extol the correct methods a man is to acquire and keep his slaves. _Feu de l'enfer,_ do not be blathering to _moi_ the words you have heard drippin’ from John Brown and his likes mouths. Besides…" Lafayette waved a hand toward his brother, who was sharing biscuits and chatting with the old negro, "... it was y'all who was holdin’ that man captive. I distinctly saw _m’ frère_ cut his bindings. So, do not attempt validating yourselves as bein’ motivated by the all-powerful greatness of equitable men abolishin’ slavery."

Gray suits’ face twisted, and he spat out, "Why he had to be tied as the damned fool refused to leave his captors."

" _Mon ennemi,_ this sounds like the prelude to an ace-high debate, however, since you have not given _moi_ anything worth paroling you.” Lafayette thumbed the LeMat’s hammer back. “I do not foresee us speakin’ much longer."

"Hold on, a dog-blasted minute," gray suit sputtered. "I heard there is a group planning to ride on Mount Pleasant."

"When?"

"Sometime later this week."

Lafayette's eyes had become dark as obsidian when he looked up at Brody Johnson. “Ride over, find a unit near Mount Pleasant. I deem Frank James or Doc Miller is currently in that region. Let 'em know; we have gained word; they just might be receivin’ _visiteurs_."

Turning on his heel, Brody headed for his horse.

"Brody?"

Halting, the broad-shouldered man looked back, "yeah?"

"Will you be stayin’ for the _danse_ or returnin’ directly?"

"Not too sure. Either way, I will find y'all around our winter campfire."

"If’n not there, then our favored tavern.” Lafayette nodded, “safe travels to you, _ami._ "

For an extra moment, Brody stared at his Captain sitting cross-legged in the dirt and had a flash of the skinny boy he and Gabriel had teased so often. The harshness slipped from his face, "Hey, Lafe?”

Lafayette looked over with raised eyebrows.

“You watch your back, all right?"

A genuine smile appeared, accompanied by a wink, “I always do." Then casually returning his attention to the prisoners, he asked. "So, who else would like to be paroled?"

"Please, this is my first time. I do not know anything, not anything at all. Honestly, I do not." Walter growled. "The drought, it hit us all so hard. We needed supplies, and I am real apologetic. Truly, I am Captain Crowe."

Lafayette rubbed at the bridge of his nose, "You and yours were without, and so you felt it was irreprehensible to force others into your same situation."

"Just did not know what to do. Crops all dried up in the field, even the deer moved out of the withered wasteland. We just have not anything, not anything."

Across his fingers that were massaging the bridge of his nose, Lafayette peered at Walter.

"Captain Crowe, I am powerful sorry. I swear by all that is holy, I am. Ma needs me at home; to help out with my three younger siblings, please, do not kill me."

Dropping his hand, Lafayette looked directly at the boy, "do _moi_ a _faveur_."

"Anything… anything at all."

"Shut your fuckin’ mouth!"

With a gulp, Walter dropped his head onto his bent knees.

Standing, Lafayette walked to the man with shoulder-length, pale, blonde hair who had purposely separated himself from the others. "You ain't had much to say."

The blonde raised his head, his face free of guilt, "Walter is correct about Kansas being a desolate wasteland."

"No one made you choose to live there."

The young man smiled, "I was born there."

"Then _mes excuses_ , _Monsieur_... ?"

"Cody. Just Cody." 

"Well, Cody, you got anything to report, so you too, can go home to your Mama?"

The lanky youth surged to his feet, the fringe of his buckskin fringe rasping back and forth. "Only that you can kill me, 'cause I will not be tellin' you jack-shit."

Hearing the click of a hammer, Lafayette held a hand toward Rance. His eyes never leaving Cody's unlined, fair-skinned face with its odd, sharp, mirror blue eyes. "You ain't much more than a _garçon_ , are you?"

Cody sneered, his strange eyes boring into Lafayette. "I could say the same of you. These borderlands are my home, and I’ve found age does not matter out here, would you not agree. . . _Captain_ Crowe."

Lafayette arched one brow, " _touché,_ " and with a grin, he walked over, joining the circle of Rangers gathered about Lee. " _Un_ of you go and parole 'em. I deem, I got all, I am goin’ to get."

As Lafayette said this, Valentine McCane swaggered up, pulling a Colt, he twirled it, "we ought to shoot 'em where they sit."

Drawing the man's name out, Lafayette dryly said, " _Valentine_ , I deem slaughterin’ _un_ unarmed man is enough for _un_ day, would _vous_ not?"

Valentine’s squirrelly, blue eyes shot from Lafayette to the others who were nodding in agreement, and with a derisive snort, stomped off to catch his horse.

"Why, again, do we keep 'em?" Fox asked, sticking a finger in his left ear, which was still ringing from the noise of the battle.

"That is a good question." Jackson said, flipping his long bangs from his eyes, "Bub?"

"Because he is from Cass and holds _most_ of the same beliefs we do. And, thusly, wishes to defend those he _amours,_ just as we do. Therefore, who am I to inform 'em, he cannot ride the border as a Ranger?"

Chuffing out a laugh, Jackson responded, "You are too lenient."

Fox yawned wide, trying to pop his ears, "Damn it to hell, Capt’, you could, at least, send 'em to go ride with somebody else."

"You are correct," Lafayette answered, his eyes still on Valentine. "However, I have known 'em all _m’_ life, just as all y’all have, and somehow that makes ‘em _un_ of us."


	5. Chapter THREE

Chapter Three

December 1860

Cass County, Missouri

Connor,

I surmise Jo and Jonathon are returned from London, and with her marriage to Jonathon, I also surmise she must realize her home is now New Orleans. Yet, I am positive Jo is much aggrieved she can, _vraiment_ , never return home to Missouri. Although I still feel it was a blessing, Jo was abroad. Otherwise, I am positive she would have been with Taddy and _moi_ when we arrived Sienna.

Every time I think of it, I am thankful she did not witness _qu’elle_ we did. That day haunts us, plaguing each hour of our days. Once every name is crossed off our list, we plan to return to y’all. Course, I am positive you know as well as us, we do not seek justice but _vengeance_. Since the first bunch outside of Harrisonville that I wrote of, we have not found any others. Although I believe, as does Taddy, with perseverance, we will.

The Jayhawkers have made it clear the only justification they need to attack any of our neighbors is that they are Missourians. Indeed, they have become so embolden they no longer ransack, loot, and murder in the black of night, but right in the light of day. Their depravities are so atrocious, local authorities have posted notices advising citizens who abide near the border, it would be in their best interest to relocate east. Our law is so unable to protect its citizens that it is counseling folks to abandon their homes. It is happening too. For it is a rare day, we do not come upon families. Their faces flush with fear, packing their belongings with children hanging from their hips as they flee.

Furthermore, those of our State who proclaim themselves Federalists have created their own guardian force, identified as the Missouri Home Guard. Yet, when a person or his property is harmed, and they take their grievances to the Home Guard, they are informed the difficulty has occurred because they, the injured party, must be a Southern sympathizer. Officers in the Home Guard are intoxicated with the power they wield, often committing the same crimes as the invaders in the name of punishing Southerners.

So, even though our personal mission is slow going, we are kept rather busy extending to the Home Guard and their Jayhawking friends the same blood-soaked kindness they have so generously been sharing with our neighbors.

After writing of all this, I would like to inform you of something I have made a mandate for _m’_ Rangers. From the beginning, I decreed when we fight, it is to defend our neighbors. Thusly, any recovered property, whenever possible, is to be returned to its rightful owner. See, I have no wish for any of us to be labeled as thieves. Which in itself is laughable, for by the time this concludes, I will doubtless be labeled a butcher, yet I shirk at being branded a thief.

This also recalls an instance; I have not discussed with any other, not even Taddy. Several weeks back, amongst the goods we recovered was a gray-haired old negro, named Jacob. His first words were, ‘I be property of Master Wade Maxwell. I be his house negro.’

_Mon_ _frère,_ being who he is, laid out to Jacob that since he had been stolen, he _non_ longer belonged to anyone, even went on to explain how I would be able to write him _liberté_ papers as I was a barrister, knowing the proper wording. Connor, I did not negate him, as I liked the notion of placing Jacob on the _liberté_ road.

After hearing Taddy out, Jacob thanked him thoroughly, then said, ‘Master Maxwell regards me as valuable. He takes right fine care of me. I would be scared to be on my own.’

To put it mildly, this infuriated Taddy, and _m’ frère_ kept at Jacob on the values of being free and _qu’elle_ he was turning down. Until finally, that old man set to laughing like a braying donkey, and when he caught his breath, he looked at each of us and said, ‘y’all be the oddest Southern boys, I ever did meet.'

So, per Jacob’s wishes, we returned him to his Master. Here is _qu’elle_ has been bothering _moi._ Even though we did as Jacob wanted, the whole affair made _moi_ feel dirty. Jacob is a child of Christ, and we returned him like he was livestock or house goods. Growing up, I never liked thinking on it, but that is what a slave is…nothing more than a child of Christ who has been purchased by another.

These past months I have done some appalling acts. Yet, Connor, each time I recall restoring Jacob to bondage, I swear I can feel my soul burning. Guess that means Jacob was correct. We, _duex,_ are the oddest Southern boys he will ever meet.

Another point which vexes _moi_ is how we have no fear in the face of danger. I do mean none. For is it not fear that forces a man to contemplate his actions? Allowing him the time needed to choose right from wrong. It does worry _moi,_ as I shudder at who we are becoming. Yet, we freely chose this path by not returning South with Mams. Then again, I believe, if we had. . . self-loathing would have twisted us into vile men. So, in the end, I supposed there was no other choice than to remain.

And, since we did, I am thankful for _m’_ Rangers as they understand _moi_ , and with them, I feel safe. Although there are times, this feels so unreal, like a fanciful tale. For once, I lived in utter luxury, not a care for _qu’elle_ the day would bring, trusted in the laws of our country to protect us, surrounded by _famille_ whom I _amoured._ Now I sleep outdoors, often hungry, planning _m’_ every move, disgusted with the justice that law fails to bring, and surrounded by men who have made me their Captain. Once, Mams whispered, angels watched over our sleep, and now it is armed sentries...see, it is rather like a fanciful tale.

Currently, many of _m’_ Rangers have returned to their homes to be with those they _amour_ for Christmas. Jackson invited Taddy and _moi_ to his _maison._ Even had _moi_ swear to be there in time for Christmas dinner. We _duex_ have been _amis_ since we were in knee britches, and in all those years, I have _jamais_ lied to him. But, that _promesse_ was a lie. I know not where we will be on Christmas day. Yet, it shall not be surrounded by a _famille_ which is not our own. Our hearts are far too raw for that.

I deem I have written more than I should, and if I continue, it would be in the same vein. As always, _merci beaucoup_ for safeguarding _m’ famille_ whilst I am away. Perhaps, you can devise some believable tale of Taddy and _moi_ for Mikey, one which contains none of the blood surrounding us. We both miss our _neveu_ dearly. _Qu’elle,_ each of us, would not do for _une_ of his giggling hugs.

Before I finish, let me explain the enclosed pages from Taddy. He wishes from them to be delivered to Jonathon. They are the first of his instructions for the Crowe Stables. He is creating a compendium of sorts: descriptions of each _cheval,_ their bloodline, along with the breeding and training schedules. Of all of us, Taddy has Father's _amour_ of _chevals_.

When I see him, so deep in his thoughts, scribbling away, it wrenches at _moi_. For if this war had not come to us, he would have spent his life at Sienna, spent it happily amongst his _chevals_.

_Tu me manques_ , until meet again.

Lafayette H. Begnoir-Crowe


	6. Chapter FOUR

Chapter Four

Folding the letter, Lafayette tucked it and his pencil into a leather satchel that he stowed in his saddlebags. Rising, he moved on cat paws to the cave's opening. The snow that had been coming down since before light was drifting into substantial mounds. He knew it had begun snowing before dawn because Thaddeus' coughing had woken him while it was still dark.

Hearing a sound, he turned to find his brother still sleeping soundly, but Rance McGreen had set down the revolver he had been cleaning and was coming his way.

Digging his cigarette makings from his pocket, Rance commented, “still, comin’ down fast.” Rolling a quirley, he lit it, passing it to Lafayette, "suppose ya is out again."

Nodding, Lafayette accepted his gift, " _merci._ "

"I would bet ya smoke more than ya eat, Capt’," Rance stated, and rolling himself one, they stood smoking in silence. Flicking his remaining ember into the snow, where it sank, Race cleared his throat. "Gid and I are thinkin' of ridin' in. It is too cold, not to be sleepin' inside. Ya and Tad goin’ to accompany us?"

Crossing his arms, Lafayette leaned against the worn, jagged rock of the cave entrance.

"Hell, y’all might’en as well it is nearly--"

"I know the damn date," Lafayette stated in a flat tone.

Guilt burned through Rance, realizing it almost being Christmas was also why the Crowe boys had become so quarrelsome these past few days.

"Sides, Taddy, and I agreed we did not want to intrude on anyone, as we sure as hell would not make _bonne visiteurs_." Turning sideways, he eyed the pile of blankets that were his brother. "Despite that, I deem, I need to get ‘em out of this damnable _malheureux_ cold."

Blowing on his hands, Rance rubbed them together, "that mean ya will be joinin' us?"

Concern etched Lafayette’s face, "we figured on stayin’ out of towns until after the New Year, deemed it would be a site easier. Still, I cannot allow ‘em to remain out here being worn down by _maladie._ Y'all go on and clear out while he is asleep. He will be far more manageable for _moi_ alone.”

“Will it be Harrisonville ya head for?”

Lafayette nodded.

“See ya in town,” Rance replied, then quiet as wolves, he and Gideon Barnett packed their belongings.

At the curved cave opening, Gideon paused beside his Captain. "Want us to saddle ya horses and bring 'em up?"

Lafayette released a derisive snort, jerking a thumb toward Thaddeus, "You forget who he rides, Gid?"

Gideon smiled, revealing his chaw-stained teeth. "Shit, suppose I did. I ain't havin’ that bastard stomp and bite me." Stepping into the snow, he turned back, his gray-green eyes aimed right at Lafayette. "Ya bring Tad’s bull-headed, fuckin’ ornery ass into town, even if 'n ya have to knock 'em out. I lost me a sister to winter illness; it ain't nothing to be takin' lightly."

Lafayette forced out a flat smile, "we will see you soon."

Tugging his hat down tighter, Gideon nodded, "makes sure I do, Capt’."

In the heavy winter quiet, Lafayette listened to Rance and Gideon saddling their horses, and when they rode by, he waved farewell.

Watching the hypnotic beauty of the falling flakes, Lafayette stood recalling Christmases gone by. Until it came to him, the tracks of the two horses were gone. 'If’n we are goin’ to travel, we best get to it,' he thought. Returning inside, he squatted by his brother, placing a wrist to Thaddeus' forehead.

"Leave _moi_ the fuck alone; I ain't goin’ to town."

" _Qu’elle_?"

Thaddeus sat up, his face drawn and haggard, "I heard y'all yackin’, and I already told you, I ain't in _non_ fuckin' mood for holidays." His chest rumbled, and a wracking cough stole away any further words from him. When it finished rattling him from one end to the other, he spat a green glob into the fire. "Any _café_?"

Handing him a cup, Lafayette said, "snows comin’ down fast, we need to be pullin’ out."

"Fuck, but your pig-headed. I ain't goin’, and that is that." Thaddeus snarled, taking a long drink, shoving the cup at his brother; he rolled back into his bedroll. "Just let _moi_ sleep."

"Difficulty is, if'n I too do not get rest, then I will catch _maladie_. Then we can lie here together, allowin’ this cave to become our tomb."

Thaddeus opened one eye, "Come off it, Lafe, you are being fuckin’ overly dramatic."

"Pragmatic, you mean."

Thaddeus humphed then fell to coughing. When he caught his wind, he gasped out, "ain't no damn reason for you not to sleep. I do not need you watchin’ over _moi_ , every fuckin' minute."

"Well, I deem you do. Sides, I ain't hankering to wake up next to a corpse."

"Ah, _feu de l'enfer_ , I ain't that fuckin' ill."

" _Bonne_ , then pack our gear while I saddle the _chevals_."

Thaddeus sat up, throwing his bangs back from his face to glare at Lafayette, "I ain't fuckin' goin’." Taking up his cup from near the fire, he took a drink. Then frowned at the lopsided grin decorating his brother’s face. "Can you not get what I am sayin' through your thick head?"

"Does not matter ‘cause you are goin’. See, I am merely allowin’ you to choose how. You pack and climb on Cain. Or, when you fall asleep, I will truss you up and throw you across 'em like a deer carcass."

Thaddeus pinned his brother with a look that had caused many a man to back down.

Lafayette chuckled, "you do not ruffle _moi_ none,” and standing, he pulled his gloves from his pocket, slipping them on. “You also know _moi_ better than anyone alive. So, you rightly know, I will do it."

" _Sil' vous plaît,_ do not force _moi_ to go to town."

Before stepping outside, Lafayette paused, " _Mes excuses,_ _m’ frère_ , but you got to."

When he returned, leading Cain, Thaddeus stepped out of the cave, handing up Lafayette’s bedroll, rifle, and saddlebags. "You know, Lafe, times are you can be the stubbornest, hard-nosed, damn bastard I ever had to deal with."

"Feeling is mutual."

Tying his belongings to Cain, Thaddeus grumped, "I want you to damn-well know, I ain't fuckin' happy with you."

"I know."

"And I am only goin’ cause; I ain't got no fuckin' doubts you will not do, as you threatened."

"That is because you know I do not make idle threats."

Shoving his rifle in its boot, Thaddeus went on grumbling. "Sides with _moi_ hog-tied then who would watch your low-down, dirty back. _Feu de l'enfer_ , more than likely, you would ride us straight into trouble and wind up gettin’ us both fuckin' shot dead."

"More than likely."'

Crawling up onto his saddle, Thaddeus broke into such a gut-wrenching cough that Cain turned to look at him. Feeling Lafayette poking him, he looked across to find his brother offering his silver whiskey flask. Taking it, Thaddeus removed a glove, his thumb tracing along the gold _fleur-de-lis_ design before spinning off the lid. The heat of the whiskey washed through him, easing the cough’s burning itch, and replacing the cap, he held it out to Lafayette.

"Keep it," Lafayette replied, hipping Coffee up. "And Taddy, for once, do not be so bound independent, if 'n you start thinkin’ you are likely to fall off, just inform _moi_."

"I ain't ever fuckin' fallen off a _cheval_!"

"I comprehend that and would like to keep your track record unscathed," Lafayette replied, grinning back over his shoulder, annoying Thaddeus further. "Figure you would, too."

The snow muffled their horse’s steps as they slogged down Harrisonville’s Main street with its windows glowing bright and golden. Turning Cain into a hitchrail, Lafayette whispered, "Taddy."

His brother jerked in his arms.

"We are here."

Sluggishly, Thaddeus raised his head, snow shifting from his hat, "where?"

"Wall Boarding House, "Lafayette replied. “Keep hold,” making sure he was, Lafayette then pushed away from Thaddeus’ back, sliding down Cain’s rump. When his cold feet hit the ground, they erupted in painful needles that had him cursing under his breath.

Through his chattering teeth, Thaddeus got out, "I am so….so cold."

Having hitched Cain and Coffee, Lafayette came to the gray’s side, "Come on down."

Swinging his leg over, Thaddeus’ felt his left crumple, the stirrup swinging wildly, and he grasped tight of his saddle.

"Let loose. I ain’t goin’ to let you hit the ground." When Thaddeus loosened his grip, Lafayette eased him down. Draping a limp arm about his shoulders, he hauled his younger brother up the steps of the wide porch.

Once there, they set to stomping the snow from their boots. The racket worked as well as knocking because the door cracked open before they had finished. From the slim opening, a square-built woman with frizzy, pale hair meekly asked, "What is it you need, gentlemen?"

Shifting his brother to stand on his own, Lafayette replied, "a room,” while briskly brushing snow from their clothing.

The woman’s blue eyes darted up and down Thaddeus, where he stood wavering unsteadily in the darkness. "Is he unwell?" Clinging tighter to the barely open door, she further questioned, "do I know you, gentlemen?"

" _Oui,_ " Lafayette answered, sweeping off his hat, dimples creasing his face as he shook back his ice caked long, black hair.

Mrs. Ingrid Wall squawked, "Oh my, Lafayette Crowe," and swinging the door open, she rushed out, "Let me assist you with..."

Thaddeus raised his head.

Exhaling a soft smile, she said, "Why, of course, who else would you have with you."

"How do, Ma'am," Thaddeus slurred, taking a lurching step, he slipped. Before he could fall, Lafayette snagged hold of him.

"Take ‘em, right up.” Mrs. Ingrid Wall ordered, pointing toward the staircase, “the room at the top is empty." Shutting the door, she called "Davey."

A towheaded boy, his cheeks toasty from where he had been asleep by the fire, appeared, "yes, Ma.”

"Take their horses down to Younger’s Livery."

"Yes 'um."

Hearing her, Lafayette stopped halfway up the staircase, barking, " _Non_!" The sheer harshness of his tone made both Davey and his Mother jump. " _M_ _es excuses,_ " he struggled under Thaddeus’ weight, grumbling, “ _Jésus pleura_ thought you told _moi_ you could walk."

"Thought I could too."

"Hey, Davey, _garçon_ , I sure could use your assistance."

The boy remained where he was, eyeing up at Lafayette warily.

" _Garçon_ , come on, now. I did not mean to yell at you. Only did not want his…" Lafayette bobbed his head toward Thaddeus, "...stallion stompin’ you. I really could use a hand here." As he said this, Thaddeus slumped, falling backward, and with a desperate lunge, Lafayette flung them both against the staircase wall.

The near fall caused Mrs. Ingrid to shriek.

Charging up the steps, Davey slid between Thaddeus and the wall, helping to balance him. Peeking under the brown hat, pulled down so low, he yelped, "Mister Tad, I did not know it was you? You ain't been shot, has you?"

Thaddeus' fever, bright eyes opened to the boy's freckled face, "Ain’t no lead in _moi_ , but Davey, I am damn glad of your aid."

Beaming from his praise, Davey stood straighter, gripping Thaddeus tighter.

Once they got him to the room, Thaddeus plopped onto a trunk, sitting just inside the door, and sinking back against the wall, he removed his hat, letting it fall to the floor.

Seeing his brother drawn so thin and pale made Lafayette’s blood run cold.

Mrs. Ingrid took in each brother as she entered with extra blankets. "All he needs is to be thawn out, a bottle from the druggist, sleep in a warm bed, and some fattening up to get ‘em back to his self."

Rolling his head back, Thaddeus stared into Lafayette’s fearful face and, dragging in a breath, said. “Lafe, I am just tired."

"All right, well, lift a foot, and I will pull your boots."

Thaddeus' eyes trailed to the staircase.

"I know, _c_ _hevals_ before men, and I will see to 'em. But, first, let _moi_ get your boots off."

Choking on a gut-wrenching cough, Thaddeus lifted each foot, in turn.

“Will you let Davey assist you, rest of the way?"

Closing his eyes, Thaddeus barely nodded.

" _Bonne,_ then I will roust _Monsieur_ Bell for some medicine on the way back from the livery."

"I will be right here," Thaddeus answered, and with the slightest of grins, he pointed to the bed. "Well, actually right there."


	7. chapter FIVE

Chapter Five

" _Mme._ Ingrid, I cannot tell you how _bonne_ all this taste."

"By the way, you enjoy it, Tad; I have a pretty fine idea." Leaning her chin on her palm, she smiled dotingly at him, "more bacon?"

Eying the four pieces lying on the plate, he considered his brother.

Reading his thoughts, she said, "I can fry up more. It would be no effort at all."

" _Merci, non,_ Ma'am, I will take some more _café_. Had not realized how terrible the brew was that we all been passin’ off as _café_."

Refilling his cup, Mrs. Wall rose to her feet on hearing the front door open.

"It’s Lafayette and I, Ma," Davey called out.

"Mr. Lafayette and me," she responded, as the two of them entered the dining room, their cheeks and ears rosy from seeing to errands about town.

Thaddeus nodded to his brother with Lafayette, acknowledging in the same, even as he said, " _Madame_ , this all looks mighty fine." Taking a seat, he moved flapjacks, grits, and bacon to his plate; noticing how little remained, he cocked an eye at his brother.

"Told you, all I needed was sleep."

"Must be true, since you slept most of a week away; well, that is, when you were not eatin’, _Mme._ Ingrid’s cupboards bare."

Thaddeus turned his single-dimpled smile on Mrs. Ingrid's. " _Qu’elle_ can I say; I appreciate _bonne_ cookin’."

"Well, thank you. All I know is, this time of year, Davey and I rarely have borders. We get lonely. So, I cannot tell you how happy we are to have you here as Christmas draws near."

Lafayette clenched his fork so tight; his knuckles stood out white as he visibly forced down the food he had been chewing.

The full connotation of what she had just said cause any further words to freeze up in Mrs. Wall’s throat.

The brothers traded tight-lipped glances, with Thaddeus coming back to himself first.

Rising from his chair, he gently took a grip of Mrs. Wall’s hand that was wickedly twisted the hem of her apron. “Think nothing of it, _m’ chère_."

"It was so careless of me. I apologize."

" _Non_ worries, _Madame,_ we should have warned you that between the two of’n us, we ain’t got enough Christmas cheer to fill a thimble."

"Still, I do apologize." Seeing her son, staring open-mouthed, she turned on him, "Davey, go bring in some wood."

"Uhm, Ma, we are nearly out, and I tried choppin’ some earlier, but it’s frozen into one big ol’ chunk."

Standing and sliding his chair back under the table, Lafayette said, "I will see to it, _Mme._ Ingrid."

"Lafayette," she called, trundling after him. However, by the time she caught up, he was slinging on his coat. "You are a guest, _and_ you have not finished your breakfast."

Shaking his gloves, he freed a stuck finger, "find I am not that hungry, _Mme._ Ingrid."

"That is my fault."

Thaddeus, having followed, positioned himself against the door frame of the dining room. Taking a low, soft breath, he said in a voice much brighter than he felt. "Oh, it ain't you. Why, he eats like a bird, most days."

She shook her head at Thaddeus, and stepping closer to Lafayette; she peered up into the sharp pain so evident in his eyes. Laying a hand on his arm, Mrs. Wall pleaded. "Please, come, retake your seat."

“ _Merci, non,_ " he replied, pulling on the glove, "I am well experienced in splittin’ wood, and the exertion will do _moi_ _bonne_."

Clutching her apron hem, she said, "I feel terrible."

Arching an eyebrow, he rolled out his trusty dimpled smile. "Terrible enough, to have Davey bring _moi_ a pot of _café_?"

"Yes, that terrible."

" _Bonne_ , I can always do with _café_. Besides, this is the least I can do, considerin’ how _m’ frère_ keeps you hoppin’ something fierce in the kitchen."

"Hey, I ain't been eatin’ _that_ much."

" _Frère cadet,_ when you goin’ to own up that you put away enough food for _trois_ men, twice your size?" Lafayette asked, his smile almost brightening his eyes.

Thaddeus only studied the cup he was holding and took a drink.

" _Qu’elle,_ _non_ rebuttal?" Lafayette asked, wrapping his scarf about his neck, and snugging his hat down tight.

"Oh, I have several, but Mams raised _moi_ better than to say 'em aloud."

"Mams! That reminds _moi_." Lafayette said, digging in his pocket, he pulled out a weathered envelope. "I went by the post office."

Coming over, Thaddeus took the letter addressed to them in clean, smooth script.

"Is it a letter from your family in New Orleans?"

"Looks to be," Thaddeus replied.

"See now you _must_ come back and sit down. That way, y’all can share these tidings."

"That ain't necessary, _Madame_ , we will read it when I am done."

"You sure?"

The brothers glanced at the letter from their elder sister, Katherine, and then to each other, nodding in unison.

A bit over an hour later, Lafayette was back at the dining table with a fresh plate of food Mrs. Wall had forced on him, along with many words of thanks for the rick of wood; he had stacked by the kitchen door.

Fingering the rumpled envelope, Thaddeus asked, “you want _moi_ to read it aloud?"

Lafayette nodded, refilling their cups.

Staring at their names inscribed so precisely, Thaddeus felt apprehensive, then with a sigh that seemed to deflate him; he ripped it open.

**15 Royal Street, Vieux Carré**

**20th of November 1860**

_Mes petit chéris,_ Nothing remains for any of us in Missouri, and your continued absence causes us to fret dreadfully. However, I have full faith each of you possesses the common sense to see Louisiana is now your home. I understand rage fills your hearts, as it also fills mine. _Petit frères_ , I cannot bear to hear reports of your deaths. _Sil vous plaît_ , come home.

Michaël asks daily for you, and Mams weeps, so often, I cannot fathom where she any longer finds tears. Until we meet in _Dieu’s_ heavenly kingdom, we will be without Father, Gabe, Peter, Web, and Dora. I implore you not to make it the same for the pair of you.

If my beseeching has not turned your hearts, let me make this clearer. I am not writing this as a request. Lafayette Henri Begnoir, Thaddeus Robert, I am commanding you to return to us.

Placing the letter on the table, Thaddeus shared a somber look with his brother. "We ain't headin’ south, is we?"

Leaning back in his chair, Lafayette tapped an unfinished piece of bacon on his plate, "Do you wish to?"

"Fuck yeah, I wish to."

"I see," Lafayette answered, dropping the bacon and taking up his coffee cup.

Drawing a breath through clenched teeth, Thaddeus snarled, " _Non,_ you do not see! Only part of _moi_ wants to go south. But it ain't as large as the part of _moi_ that wishes to remain, right fuckin’ here. If‘n we leave, those _bâtards_ get away with slaughterin’ _notre famille_."

Placing his forearms on the table, Thaddeus hunched toward Lafayette, hot-fire roaring in his eyes. "Damnation, _Frère,_ I have to kill ’em! Fuck it to hell; I know it ain’t goin’ to change what they did…” He rubbed his face, “ _pour l'amour de Dieu_ they murdered _m’_ twin, and I will not rest until I find her fuckin’ murderers."

Lafayette calmly replied, "and I would never ask you to." His eyes flicked to the letter, "you want _moi_ to read the rest of it?"

" _Non._ " Thaddeus roughly swiped a hand under his chin, wiping at tears gathering there. "I will say she is _bonne_." He shook the pages, "she even, damn well, used Mikey against us."

Lafayette nodded, taking another drink.

**November 21, 1860**

Lafe and Taddy,

I should not even bother mailing what I wrote yesterday. All _trois_ of us know you will disobey. Still, how could I claim to _amour_ either of you if I did not try to call you home? By sending it, you, and _Dieu_ , both know I tried. Well, let us push on to other topics.

Marie declared she wished to move to California. I am not sure why she chose such a far-off destination. However, I did not question her; only bought boat passage to San Francisco. Maybe she saw it as a way to leave all this North and South foolishness behind. So, in doing so, I fulfilled the request you outlined so clearly in the packet Mams delivered on their arrival here.

Josie’s last correspondence said she and John would be home after the New Year. I dread informing her. It would be good if you _deux_ were here; especially, you Lafe, as she seems far closer to you than the rest of us.

_Grand-mère_ is broken-hearted. She took to bed after reading what Mams delivered. Like the rest of us, she mourns her lost _famille_ ; but a part of her grief is the absence of her _petit-fils_. She is not ill, only melancholy. Although, I do believe she is on the rebound. As in one breath, she will bemoan not having the pair of you by her side, and in the next, she will zealously praise you both, referring to you as her avenging angels. The latter is not a topic Grand- _mère,_ and I can converse on, as I do not agree with her. For what I want is _mon famille_ all together once more.

Mams lives with us at the Royal house. However, she is a paper shell of herself, I have tried, but I cannot kindle life into her. Not even Mikey or Connor’s _bonne_ spirits bring about more than a fleeting emotion. I pray Josie’s return will awaken her. In truth, I believe it will.

Though she has cared lovingly for _moi_ , Mams never treated _moi_ nor Gabe as her own. The _quatre_ of you, who were so young at _Mère's_ passing you will forever be Mam’s _bébés_. Through the years, I have seen her rage, sneak, and even lie to protect you _quatre_. So, I think Josie’s return will awaken her as she will need to care for her _bébé_. However, if there is no change, I will inform you. Since I highly doubt either of you have wasted more than a passing breath on the subject of returning. You should, at the least, consider writing Mams.

Myself, I am exacerbated as Death’s hand continually robs _moi_ of happiness; _Mère,_ Archie, and now all at Sienna. _M’ frères_ , I plead with you, do not be imprudent, be ever cautious. I shall pray for your souls, just as I do for those of our departed.

Lastly, and in many ways, most importantly, there is Connor. Never have I met such a cheerful, sincere, caring individual. He is ever dependable, at our sides before we realize we require him. His laughter brings color to this gray house. And, when it comes to Michaël, you have both been bumped aside for Connor. They are constant companions; he genuinely enjoys spending time with _m’ fils_. They even share in school lessons, as Connor has informed _moi_ , his education is just what he could scrape together, and appreciates the opportunity to learn. All in all, Connor is the perfect chaperone and _ami._ So, Lafe, _merci beaucoup,_ for making him a part of _notre famille_.

Writing to you has been upsetting, and I have shared some of my thoughts with Connor. He agrees with me that you will not leave Missouri. He explained how you are both honorable, proud men who could not bear leaving such business unfinished. I told him it was not what I wanted to hear. He informed me, “Lass, you must cease wishing for dreams which will only come true when the Lads be ready to fulfill them.” It must be the most valid statement I have ever heard, and he obviously understands you quite well.

Which leaves me only with this. . .

Lafayette Henri Begnoir-Crowe, I call upon all the honor you hold in yourself, just as Father did when he compelled you to protect Josephine and myself. You are to do the same for Taddy. You safeguard our _petit_ _frère_ ; swear on your very life that you will.

Thaddeus Robert Crowe, you listen to him. For heaven's sake, _s’il vous plaît_ , for once in your life--you listen to him. Swear that you will watch over him, with the same intensity you once guarded over Eudora.

If I can believe the pair of you have sworn to this, it allows me some hope; I shall _une_ day see each of you again. 

My constant love, Katherine

Folding the letter, Thaddeus returned it to the envelope, placing it very carefully upon the cloth table cover.

For a time, he and Lafayette stared at each other, listening to the clock ticking on the mantle.

Pushing his chair back, Thaddeus stood, spitting into his hand, extending it.

Breathing deeply, Lafayette rose to his feet, “this ain’t needed.”

“For her, we will swear.”

Nodding, Lafayette spat into his hand, grabbing Thaddeus’ in a firm grip. The moisture on their palms drew their hands tighter together.

When they said, “I swear.” Their deep baritones were so synchronized, a person listening from the outside the room would have believed a single man had spoken.


	8. Chapter SIX

Chapter Six

**Monday, 4 th of March 1861**

Rolling on his side, Lafayette stretched, feeling snug and safe. Outside birds were unveiling their morning songs. By the soft purplish light filling the room, he studied his brother’s sleeping profile. _'Mme._ Ingrid has been a _bénédiction_ for ‘em. Hell, for the both of’n us. All his signs of _maladie_ are gone. It has also been weeks since either of us needed to wake the other from some damnable dream. Suspect not havin’ to react to each sound as if’n it was bringin’ your death has eased our minds a mite, too.’

He could hear Ingrid Wall building a fire in the kitchen stove. ‘ _Par Dieu,_ I will miss her _café_ and _sucré_ rolls.' Sliding from bed, he smiled at how Thaddeus spread out, without waking, stealing it all for himself.

As he dressed, Lafayette gazed out their bedroom window, thinking, 'it is high time to round up _m’_ Rangers, but only after a stop by Sienna.' Turning, he half-frowned at his brother, ‘I pray he will not buck ‘bout _m’_ plan for us _visite_ _maison_.’ Stepping closer, he laid a hand on Thaddeus’ left arm.

Startled, Thaddeus scrambled for his Remington, hanging in its holster from the headboard.

"Shh, just _moi_."

With a grunt, Thaddeus flopped back, tossing an arm across his face. "You ever heard of lettin' a man sleep late?”

"Not unless he is with _maladie,_ which you _non_ longer are," Lafayette answered, sitting on the bed to pull on his boots. "I deem it is time to ride, _Frère_."

Thaddeus did not move.

"Coffee and Cain are about as fat and sassy as they need be." Although this pleased Lafayette because about mid-winter, his horse had begun looking underfed and haggard. He shook his head, ‘Coffee is nearly fifteen. I should be ridin’ a younger horse.’ He thought, ‘Still, I cannot imagine trustin’ another, specially _une_ not of our line.’ He watched the sunlight speckling across the floor, ‘and, I ain’t ‘bout to take back any we have gifted to an _amis_.'

Slapping Thaddeus on the chest, he stood. “Get a move on."

"Do not fuckin’ start with _moi_. I am workin' on it."

"That is what you always say. Then, I have to come back and roust you again."

"Damnation, Lafe, you wantin’ to pick a fight this fuckin’ early?"

" _Non_ , just wantin’ to get in the saddle while it is still early."

Flinging his arm from his face, Thaddeus glared hatefully at his brother. "Go drink your damn _café_."

Lafayette’s only reply was a snort, but still, he paused after opening the door, "Taddy?"

"Brimstone and hellfire, I said, I am workin’ on it, and I fuckin’ am! Now get the fuck out!"

A bit over an hour later, Davey Wall was standing on the steps of the boarding house, watching the Crowes ride up from retrieving their horses from the Younger Livery. "You goin’ to keep the Jayhawkers away from here?"

Thaddeus’ crooked smile burst free, "that we are, _Garçon_."

The front door banged open, “wait, Lafayette, Tad, wait,” Mrs. Wall gasped, hurrying down the steps with a pair of bulging flour sacks.

“I most certainly hope that is some of your baked goods,” Thaddeus said, with a boyish grin.

“It is, among other things,” she replied, handing a sack to each of them while repeatedly peeping at the extra set of saddlebags lying across Lafayette’s thighs.

“ _Merci, Madame,_ you did not have to, but we sure appreciate the thought and the food.”

When he spoke, Mrs. Wall’s blue eyes turn up to Lafayette; she said, "least I can do.

Y’all remember to come here if’n you need a place. No matter the time, you come right on in.”

Lafayette’s eyes scanned the quiet town, feeling like others were staring from behind gaps in their curtains.

Mrs. Wall laid a hand on his leg, "Lafayette...?"

He nodded briskly, smiling tightly down at her, “We will.”

“Good.” She passed a feeble attempt at a smile back to him and walked around to Thaddeus. “And, Tad, do not let me hear of y’all stayin’ anywhere else. Understood?"

" _Oui, Madame_.”

She beamed up at him, a motherly smile warming her face, “worked awful hard fattenin’ you back up.” Her eyes directed Thaddeus’ attention to his brother, “that goes for both of you, so you make sure he eats."

“Will do, _Madame_.”

Backing from them, she moved up the steps, wrapping an arm about her son, "Davey and I have become rather fond of y’all, so y’all keep safe."

With a playful wink, Thaddeus teased, “we _doux_ be wilier and faster than any fox you ever saw."

She tried to laugh, to make light of it all, but her throat hurt, and tears were pricking hot at her eyes.

" _Madame_ , we shall take every care," Lafayette cajoled, and nodding to Davey, “you guard over your _Mere_ ; she is a _magnifique Madame.”_

Davey stood taller, a smile spreading across his freckled face, “I will, Captain Crowe.”

Watching them ride away, Ingrid Wall ran a hand through her son’s curly, pale ash hair, drawing him closer.

Once Harrisonville had fallen well behind them, Thaddeus asked, “Where to first?”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Lafayette answered, “Sienna.”

Thaddeus’ face paled, and he plucked the crucifix and silver heart from beneath his shirt.

"You goin' to ask _pourquoi_?"

"Figure, you got your reasons."

"I do."

Looking pointedly at Lafayette’s extra saddlebags, Thaddeus asked, “Have something to do with them?"

Lafayette nodded.

They rode on to the sound of the mud squishing beneath their horses’ hooves.

“ _Jésus pleura_ , ain’t you curious?”

Thaddeus spat into the mud, answering in an icy, almost threatening tone, “do not _vraiment_ fuckin’ care.”

“Over the winter, I consistently removed--”

“Did I not just say I did not fuckin’ care?!”

Lafayette’s left dimple flickered, but he kept a neutral tone, “ _zut,_ Taddy, over the winter, I have been pulling from the account at the Mercantile Bank.”

Lafayette saw his brother stiffen.

“Told _Monsieur_ Majors a different lie with each withdrawal…needed it for gifts, for debts as I was not as _bonne_ a poker player as I deemed, or that I was mailing it _Louisiane_. Just lied ‘cause I did not want anyone thinkin’ I had so much coin about.”

“How much?”

“Got most all of Father’s account…” Lafayette grinned over at his younger brother, “...did it _une_ withdrawal at a time.”

“Why the fuck for?”

“I am worried how secure Harrisonville will remain. Can we not each name towns that have been looted and burned by Jayhawkers? Also, when the South charges into this war, they are braying for, and the North wins--"

"You fucker, you goin’ to ride along and say that so casually."

Lafayette's mouth pinched, fire flaming behind his eyes, "I ain't _jamais_ changed _m’ putain_ opinion. So, if‘n you deemed I had, then you should, damn well, be cursin’ yourself and not _moi_."

With a snort, Thaddeus removed a half-smoked cigarillo from his hatband, and digging out a match; he drew its flame into the tobacco.

Once the sweet bluish smoke was drifting from him, Lafayette asked, "Got anything else to say?"

" _Non_."

" _Bonne._ I figure to disperse it,” he placed a hand on the saddlebags draped across his legs, “in various hidin’ spots ‘round Sienna, so start thinkin’ on places."

The rain of the night before had left behind deep blue storm clouds, causing the early green of spring to stand out in sharp definition. It was if every tree held a jubilant bird who was trying to outdo his neighbor in song, yet the silence carried heavily between the brothers as they rode for home. On turning their mounts on the lane leading to Sienna, the horses picked up their pace.

Clearing his throat, Lafayette asked, “You goin’ to be all right with this?”

Thaddeus green eyes scanned across fields so achingly familiar.

"I asked if 'n you were goin’ to be all right."

Reining in before Sienna’s filigree iron gates, Thaddeus grouchily replied, "and I heard you the first fuckin' time."

“Well? _”_ Lafayette roughly asked, “Well?” To cover how taken aback he was by the anger shimmering from his brother like heat from a forge.

“Yeah, I heard you,” Thaddeus answered, his leather gloves creaking against his reins. “I ain’t goin’ with you.”

“You ain’t goin’ with _moi_?”

“I know you ain’t so damn thick-witted as to not be understandin' _moi_.”

“Thaddeus Robert, I—"

“Uh-huh,” Thaddeus grunted so loud it sounded like a bark. “Do not be Thaddeus Roberting _moi_. Not this fuckin’ time!” His face flushed dark, “You go on and try herdin’ _moi,_ and you will fuckin’ find you have bitten off a whole fuckin’ lot more than you expected.”

A chill crept down Lafayette’s spine, his dark eyes flicking to Sienna’s closed gate, “This is something we both have to do... need to--”

Thaddeus held out a hand, “I ain’t hearin’ any fuckin’ more.” His tongue darted across his lower lip and he looked down, exhaling hard. When he did raise his face, there was nothing friendly in the smile he passed to his brother. “You ain’t ever noticed, but it takes you twice as long to slick talk _moi_ into _qu’elle_ you want than anyone else. _Feu de l'enfer_ , I just give in, most times, 'cause I am damn tired of listenin’ to you. But Lafe, not this fuckin’ time.” His eyes narrowed, “so just shut the fuck up.”

Lafayette’s nostrils flared, rage quickening in his face, he glanced to Sienna’s gates. “ _Qu’elle_ the fuck are you goin’ to do, stand out here on the road?!?”

“I am goin’ to ride on to the Eriksen’s. You said we _was_ goin’ to gather the Rangers.” Thaddeus shifted in his saddle, “then you up and…” he scowled at the gates emblazoned with their family's brand. “Not _une_ damn fuckin’ word ‘till we're out here.” He spat in the mud, “Fuck Lafe! I do not appreciate you springin’ this on _moi_.”

Lafayette chuckled; it sounded snide and cruel, “You sayin’, if’n I had informed you back in Harrisonville, we would not be arguin’ here and now?”

A bit of Thaddeus’ crooked grin appeared, but it did little to dissipate the fury flowing from him, “if’n you had said something then, I would have told you to _putain en enfer_ and not been sitting here ‘bout now.”

Lafayette’s left dimple deepened, “so are you tellin’ _moi_ to go to hell.”

Thaddeus glared back.

Shifting his eyes from Thaddeus’ glare, Lafayette read ‘Sienna’ in the scrolled arch over the drive. Stepping from his saddle, he walked to the gates. Jerking up the anchor pin, he flung up the lock strap, slinging one side open with such force, the gate crashed into the fence.

At the clattering bang, Coffee snorted, laying his ears back.

“I am ridin’ on to Jackson’s.”

“ _Chiant_! You still fuckin’ here?”

“Lafe.”

“Go on, fuckin’ desert _moi_!”

“I ain’t desertin’ you.”

Walking Coffee in, Lafayette slammed the gate, kicking the anchor pin back in place, he leapt into his saddle.

“You goin’ to meet _moi_ there?”

Coffee danced in spot, his head twisting to look up the drive, eager to reach the barn.

“Well, are you?”

“ _Visser votre!_ ”

“Lafe, do not be this way.”

Twisting in his saddle, Lafayette snarled, “ _Qu’est-ce qui t’importe?_ _Vous avez déjà montré que vous n’avez aucune difficulté à me demander d’affronter Sienna seule. Tu penses que je ne suis pas tordu à ce sujet? Tout ça! Eh bien, va te faire! Va s’en aller!”_

“If’n you are goin’ cuss _moi,_ at least do it in Creole, so I can fuckin’ understand you.”

Raising his left hand over his head, without looking back, Lafayette extended his middle finger, putting heels to Coffee. The big bay took off, except once around the bend in the drive, Lafayette reined the horse in, listening to the sound of Cain’s hoofbeats fading away.

Rubbing a hand across his mouth, he slumped in his saddle; before him stood the crumbling ruins of his home looked sadly out of place in the crisp morning light. Combing his fingers through Coffee’s mane, Lafayette said, “Suppose I could have managed that better, but _Garçon,_ I still cannot believe he chose to leave _moi_ to do this alone.”

Coffee’s ears twitched, then the bay took a deep breath, releasing a long, shrill whinny. When there were no answering whickers, he jigged in a circle, searching for Cain.

“Easy, _Garçon.”_ Straightening the horse, he aimed him up the drive. “We are all alone for this.”


	9. chapter SEVEN

Chapter Seven

Debris and grass covered the wide, curving front steps spilling to the where dandelions grew rampant. Cold little quivers flinched down the muscles of Lafayette’s back, from collapsed walls, the iron veranda impaled in the garden to the missing roof to the eerie silence wafting from what had been homes; the comfort Sienna’s great house had always offered was gone.

Sunlight broke through shifting clouds, and it appeared as if gemstones were sparkled across the entire front yard, drive, and steps. Yet, Lafayette knew, his grief rising up in his throat, as he recalled how their father enjoyed recanting the tale of purchasing the massive, stained-glass rose window from Chicago as a wedding gift for his wife. How, Antonio had felt once it was installed, the home he had built for Gena Lorraine had become every inch, as magnificent as any in New Orleans. “I forgot the heat of the fire had exploded the window, Coffee.” The corners of Lafayette’s mouth flinched, “or perhaps I _jamais_ noticed.”

Studying the shattered glass, once been a symbol of love, Lafayette’s jaw twitched, not liking how it felt like an unquestionable metaphor of his life.

Picking up his reins, he urged Coffee around the house, dismounting by the outdoor kitchen. Flipping a table onto its legs, he pulled the bay’s saddle, tossing it on the table. Yet, when he removed the gelding’s bridle, the horse did not wander off but instead leaned into Lafayette.

Lafayette scratched the horse for a long time, until finally, he affectionately slapped him on the hip. “Go on, _Garçon_ , go graze.”

Hitching his thumbs in his holster belt, he raised his eyes to the back of the house. ‘ _Bonne_ deal of the windows are still intact, the kitchen door is properly closed, hell, it looks more as it should back here.’

Taking up the saddlebags weighted with banknotes and gold, he climbed the kitchen steps. Yet, when he tried the door, it stuck tight. Setting his shoulder to it also brought no movement. Frowning, he stepped back, kicking the hardwood near the latch. The lock snapped, and the door flew open with a bang.

He saw his hand shook like a leaf dancing in the wind when he put it on the doorframe. On peeking in, he was surprised to find other than the smell of fire and being dusty; the kitchen was as it always was. Except, then he saw the broken red and white Dagoty-Honoré china plates sprayed across the floor, and his heart skipped a beat. In his head, he could clearly hear Mams saying, ‘when the shootin’ started it so frightened Marie, she dropped the plates she was carryin’.’

Avoiding the broken china, he placed the saddlebags on the table, the dust littered with tiny paw prints, ‘Mams would be beside herself if ‘n she knew there was vermin in her kitchen.’ Knowing exactly how utterly ludicrous the thought was, he shook his head.

In the pantry, he pulled a wooden crate from the highest shelf, and there was a soft chink of glass that chimed louder when he set the box on the floor. With a weary sigh, the type of which is heard when an old dog collapses in the shade, he took a seat and began unloading the stacks of greenbacks on the table. Once the bags were empty, he leaned into the chair’s back, digging his makings from his pocket, and rolled a quirley.

Smoking slowly, he studied the yellowing September calendar page on the wall by the backdoor. ‘And there it is, the last of Sienna’s days,’ he thought, then with a grunt, he sat up grinding the remains of his smoke beneath his boot heel. Removing a canning jar from the crate, he crammed it with currency, and latching the lid; drolly eyed the small fortune secured behind the thick, blue-green glass.

After filling the last jar, he stood arching his back, the length of his spine popping and crackling. ‘The door to the dining room looks so natural,’ he thought with a slight frown. ‘Seems if’n I laid a hand to it; all this would merely be a terrible dream.’ It was not until he saw his hand reaching out that he realized he had walked to the door.

Staring at the door for a long moment, he placed his hand on the brass plate and shoved. The door glided open and then ground to a halt. Lafayette’s mouth thinned to a flat line, and putting his shoulder to the door, he forced it the rest of the way open with a grating screech.

The pungent stench of the fire was stronger. Stepping over a ceiling joist, Lafayette tilted his face up to the brilliant blue sky beyond the dangling floorboards and, spinning slowly, let it all sink in.

The front upstairs rooms, both parlors, and the long curving, central staircase were gone. Although a part of Father’s study remained with a section of Gabriel’s room hanging in broken and charred along one side. However, his own and Thaddeus rooms, over the kitchen, appeared intact.

About the same moment this came to him, he realized he was standing there slack-jawed.

Clamping his mouth shut, he fled the ruins, snagging up the empty saddlebags and crate on the way by.

Out in the warm sunshine, he thunked the crate down next to his saddle, dropping his hat atop it and ran his hands through his hair, muttering, “I have to be a fool.”

Despite his misgivings, he set the empty saddlebags on his shoulder and strode straight for the outside iron stairs that lead to the second-floor veranda. Placing a boot on the bottom step, he kept his eyes glued to his feet as they climbed, never looking up until he was standing before a set of unbroken French glass doors.

The doors opened as they had always, and like the kitchen, Thaddeus’ room only had an unused feel. Otherwise, it was as his brother must have left it. Keeping tight to the exterior wall, Lafayette circled to the sliding doors on the far side. Grasping the handles, he shook his head, expecting them to stick; instead, they glided apart.

His bed had slid across the floor when the fire caused the walls below to collapse, crashing to a halt against the sliding doors to Gabriel’s room. ‘ _Jamais_ thought to see this again.’ Looking from his bed to the overturned cowhide settee, he stepped in.

From near where his bed had sat, he retrieved ‘Curiosity Shop’ _,_ placing it in his saddlebags—scanning the bits and pieces of his life strewn across the floor, he saw little of value. Then his eyes settled on his chifforobe, leaning back on two feet, against the wall, closest to the where the center of the house used to be.

He frowned, looking away, and then shaking his head, growled, “ _Par Dieu,_ I really must be a half-wit.”

The floor squeaked hideously as he edged across the room, and as he knelt to jiggle the drawer open, sweat trickled down his back. When it opened, he scowled darkly, thinking, ‘someone has been here.’ The arrowheads he kept stored in a leather bag stared blankly back at him throughout the drawer. Picking one up, he felt of its coldness, recalling summer days when Gabriel, Webster, and Brody would load them all in a wagon for a day along the creek beds, picnicking and enjoying the cold water. Finding arrowheads had been a game amongst him and his brothers, and it hurt to have the invaders disrupt even these long-ago memories. Choosing a couple that held special memories, he pocketed them and began tossing shirts from the drawer. Anything of monetary value, his knives, baptism gifts, flasks, even his collection of foreign coins were gone. Yet, none of that mattered, ‘where is it?’

Dumping the drawer over, he sighed, thinking. ‘There it is.’ With trembling fingers, he traced the delicately stitched LHBC on the handkerchief Eudora had made for him. A lump, the same one that choked his throat whenever he thought of his family, rose up. Chewing hard on his lower lip, he folded the small treasure, tucking it in his interior vest pocket.

He ignored any clothing in the chifforobe as it would reek of decay and smoke, smells he knew for the rest of his life would return him to Sienna. Moving from the cupboard, he noted the books lining the wall above his desk were undisturbed, unlike the drawers, which had been flipped to the floor. Turning over the center drawer, he shuffled through the mess, withdrawing a tied bundle of correspondence and three maps: The United States, Missouri, and a detailed drawing Gabriel had created of Sienna. After withdrawing, ‘The Complete Works of Shakespeare’ from his row of books, he sandwiched the rest together, lifting them as one down to the desk. ‘Hmmm...it is still there.”

Snugged against the wall was his telescope, where hid it to keep Thaddeus from using it like it was his own. The gleaming brass was cold in his hand when he set it atop the maps. Next, he took hold of each book by its spine and shook it: notes, dried flowers, ribbons, ticket stubs, racetrack flyers, and four envelopes covered the desktop when he was done. Swapping the Dicken’s book for ‘Leatherstocking Tales’, Gabriel’s book he had borrowed and never returned. He then placed his mementos between its pages, pausing to read the envelopes' return addresses--Cambridge –England, West Point - New York, Transylvania – Kentucky, and Yale - Connecticut.

‘When I discussed _m’_ options with Gabe, I told ‘em, I had decided against West Point ‘cause I had no desire to lead men in _melee_.’ Lafayette snorted, ‘to think, he had laughed at _moi,_ sayin’ _jamais_ know what the future will bring you, _frère cadet_.’

A tear dropped the West Point envelope, wiping a hand across his face, Lafayette tucked it in the book with everything else, tying it closed with a bit of string before setting it in the saddlebags, along with the telescope and maps.

Returning to Thaddeus’ room, Lafayette thought, ‘floor feels firmer, safer here.’ Stretching up, he knocked a paper box from the top of his brother’s chifforobe. When it sailed out, he caught it easily as it weighed next to nothing. Removing the lid, he was pleased to see it still contained the flat top black hat that Thaddeus jestingly called his hell raisin’ hat.

The only time he wore it was when released from his labors at Sienna to go rampaging with his pals. However, more important than the hat was the braided hatband. From the tail strands gathered from the stable, Thaddeus had crafted hatbands for the men of Sienna, and it was only right, he should have his own. Dropping the box, Lafayette tossed the hat, so it floated to a stop across the sill of the French doors.

‘Does not look like the _bâtards_ made it to Taddy’s _chambre._ ’ Even as he thought this, Lafayette began ransacking the room. His search uncovering: a pair of full flasks, a Barlow knife, cufflinks, a well-read copy of _Last of the Mohicans,_ a bundle of tied papers; also, Thaddeus’ gold and lapis rosary, bible, and silver Baptism gifts. Along with a deer antler knife, playing cards, a journal on their stable line, a slingshot, the Remington’s gun case plus three extra cylinders, and three leather satchels, one of arrowheads, a second filled with brass racetrack tokens, and the last of knucklebones _._ Most importantly, he found the handkerchief Eudora had embroidered TRC, in perfect, tight stitches.

Unsure what his brother would want, Lafayette retrieved a pillowcase. When putting the slingshot in, he paused, ‘ _Par Dieu_ , if ‘n he did not leave some black, knot bruises on Gabe, Web, Brody, Jackson, and _moi_ with this. Amazin’ _une_ of us _jamais_ strangled ‘em with it.”

Back downstairs in the outside kitchen, he placed all he had retrieved by the crate. Walking to the well, he drew a full bucket of water, automatically reaching for the dipper. However, it was not hanging on its peg.

Scanning about, he spotted its long handle sticking from a bunch of dead, dry flowers from the previous season. Stomping over, he snagged it up, and after rinsing the dipper, drank and drank of the familiar cold sweet water.

Returning to the table, he rubbed his chest that felt painfully tight and taking a seat; he coughed hard to loosen the feeling. Except, the tightness grew worse, the pain expanding out until he was breathing in short, wheezing gasps. Leaning on the table with a drawn-out moan, he burrowed his head in his arms.

The pain increased, and the grief he had kept buried, hidden from others, took voice in a groan that twisted, warping, rising into a rending howl that echoed off the ruins of his past. When the tears came, they coursed from him, wetting his sleeves. He moaned, weeping as he never had before, wringing the agony from his body until eventually, he fell into an exhausted sleep.

“Lafe?”

Waking with a jerk, Lafayette clawed for his LeMat, but before he could draw, his right arm was pinned against his body. “Easy, _Grand frère_ , it is _moi_.”

Releasing the revolver’s birdhead handle, Lafayette’s red, puffy eyes rose to his brother.

Thaddeus’ brows bunched together.

“ _Par tous les saints,_ I ain’t ever been so happy to see you.” Leaping up, Lafayette snatched him up in an all-encompassing hug.

Caught by surprise, Thaddeus’ arms hung akimbo when all of a sudden, he wrapped Lafayette closer. “ _Mes apologizes_ ; I should not have left you.”

Holding him a bit longer, Lafayette finally pulled back, and seeing Jackson standing nearby, he dashed to his friend. “ _Merci beaucoup_ for comin’.”

“Figured, this would not be anything I would want to do alone,” Jackson replied, shooting Thaddeus a stern look that held clues of a heated conversation, even as he pulled Lafayette into a hug. Patting him on the back, Jackson said, “if’n I had known, I would have come with you.”

His words brought back that Thaddeus had abandoned him. Straightening, Lafayette’s dark eyes slanted to his brother, who was gnawing at one of his cuticles. ‘I want to be angry with ‘em. But my heart aches too much to be mad.’ Gesturing to the pillowcase and hat, he tonelessly said, “retrieved those from your _chambre_.”

Thaddeus’ face crimsoned, and bowing his head, he muttered, “ _merci beaucoup._ ”

Then as Lafayette dug into one of Mrs. Wall’s sacks, removing a pair of sweet rolls, he took them to eat near the well as Thaddeus sorted the items from the pillowcase. Just as Lafayette popped the last bite in his mouth, Thaddeus walked over, bumping into him, “here.”

The corner of Lafayette’s mouth twisted at the flask he was being offered.

“ _Merci,_ Lafe that was more than gracious…considerin’ what I said and, um, did.”

Arching a brow at him, Lafayette took the flask, and tilting it back, drank it dry.

“ _Qu’elle_ you been standin’ here, figurin’?”

“Best spot to bury the jars,” Lafayette looked from Thaddeus over to Jackson, “would be the family cemetery.”

Thaddeus swallowed hard but nodded.

“And, as I said this mornin’, I want to gather the _garçons_ and get back to findin’ the _bâtards_ who did this.”


	10. chapter EIGHT

Chapter Eight

**Saturday, 30 th of March 1861**

The drizzling rain, little by little, saturated the prairie, offering no cover to the group riding across its wet, clinging grass.

"How much further ya figure 'till we up and reach, Big Springs?" Brody Johnson asked.

"Maybe a mile or so," Jackson replied, not bothering to look Brody’s way, as he had finally gotten his hat adjusted, so no water ran down the inside of his jacket.

“This damn _cheval_ is clumsy as a fuckin’ heifer,” Thaddeus grumbled, the bay he rode stumble-stepping, yet again. "And _zut_ , I fuckin’ loathe ridin’ in the rain."

In a tone filled with equal grouchiness, JT Massey said, "Me…I would prefer being in a saloon with a beer over a hand of cards."

“You got that right, Cuz.” Clyde Massey laughed, “but, first, a gal to warm me up."

"And, a big steak," Jimmy Gamble said, wrinkling his nose at dried meat in his hand, "this be doing much of nothing for filling my gut."

Reining in the long-legged sorrel he was riding, Lafayette turned on them. "I have damn-well concluded indoor livin’ this past winter has made y'all soft. _Pour l'amour de Dieu_ , y'all ain't done anything but grouse and whine since we crossed the border. _Par Dieu,_ why do all y'all not just shut your _malheureux_ pans!"

The Rangers all stared at their pal and leader until JT released a low, prolonged whistle, and they fell to snickering.

Lafayette’s lip curled in a snarl, “ _Jésus pleura_ , ain’t _non_ of y'all required to accompany _moi_."

Draping his forearms across the shoulders of his saddle, Brody thickly drawled. “Like we all was gonna allow ya to ride into Kansas all on your lonesome."

Lafayette snapped back, "wish you damn-well had.” Kicking his horse into a lope, he thought, ‘ _Chiant_! This rain has _moi_ chilled clear through. _Qu’elle_ makes any of’em think I like the rain any more than them? Still, they ain’t heard _moi_ fuckin’ bellyachin’ ever since we crossed the border. I also would damn well prefer to be ridin’ Coffee _._ And did I not tell ‘em, ridin’ our _chevals_ would draw unneeded attention?'

Gathering in his reins, he slowed the young sorrel before she slipped on the wet, greasy, buffalo grass. Rolling his shoulders in his ill-fitting coat, he grumbled to himself, “sides Jackson is probably correct. Ain’t goin’ to be a chance in a dozen; we will find any of Sienna’s _chevals_ at the auction.” He peeked to his pals joking with one another, ‘Still, everyone knows Big Springs's March auction brings people out of the woodwork. So, I had to try.’

Moving his horse up alongside, Thaddeus shook his head at his brother.

“ _Qu’elle!?”_

A snorting laugh erupted from Thaddeus as he shook his head again. " _Merde_ , _Grand Frère_ , you look so fuckin’ plain, I would bet a twenty-dollar gold piece, not even Mams would recognize you."

Knowing his brother was searching for amusement, even if it was an argument, Lafayette opted not to reply.

“I mean, here you are the dandy of our _famille_ , hell of’n all of’n us.” He waved a hand back toward the other Rangers. “Been times, I was not so fuckin’ sure I wanted to claim you, for all your fancy-assed ways…” Thaddeus chuckled loudly, “leastways, you ain’t ever looked so down on your fuckin’ luck and homely.”

Snatching off his drooping hat, Lafayette exposed his newly shorn hair as he set about roughly reshaping the hat’s cheap brim.

“And, damnation, I know, I been on you ‘bout cuttin’ that fuckin’ tail off,” another derisive laugh blasted from Thaddeus, “but, _feu de l'enfer_ , I gotta ask…did you _visite_ a barber or a shearer?"

Sweeping the jagged spray of bangs back, Lafayette ran his hand on across the remaining soft, bristly hair settling the hat in place.

" _Pourquoi_ so damn drastic?"

"Figure you always had Peter, cut your hair short each spring... so, why not."

Releasing a full belly laugh, Thaddeus gasped out, "Peter did a far-sight better job."

Lafayette flashed his broad dimpled smile along with his middle finger at his younger brother. “Go find someone else to fuckin’ pester. I am already tired of you, Taddy.”

Thaddeus’ brows drew together as he stared at his brother, his face settling into deep frown lines.

With a snort, Lafayette rolled his eyes skyward. “You gettin’ all thin-skinned on _moi_?"

“Hell, no.” Thaddeus made a chirking noise through his teeth, “I was just considerin’ your smile."

" _Une_ point, I am positive on, there ain't anything, at all wrong with _m’_ smile." Lafayette declared, fully displaying his straight, flawless white teeth and dimples.

" _Oui_ , but there is..." Thaddeus shook his head sadly and dramatically. "...it is too fuckin’ memorable."

With those words, Lafayette’s smile disappeared, and throwing back his head; he barked, " _Jésus pleura_! I changed out _m’_ clothes and cut _m’_ hair clean off, all so if 'n I crossed tracks with any of the _bâtards_ we have paroled, I would not be recognized. Well, fuck!"

Having edged up on their conversation, Brody cheerfully put in, "Now, Capt', if 'n ya would haul off interviewin’ all of ‘em and just shoot 'em. Ya would not have a problem. Dead men…" Brody pointed at Lafayette, "… do not talk."

“ _Christ_ _sur une croix,_ Brody, you rightly know, I am searchin’ for leads on who we...” Lafayette tilted his head toward Thaddeus, "... should hunt down next."

"Way I figure it is, if 'n we shoot 'em all, then ya need not worry ‘bout sorting 'em out," Brody replied, spitting a stream of tobacco juice. "Sure as hell save us all a shitload of time."

" _Non,_ " Lafayette stated firmly, "knowin’ we got the right ones, looking 'em in the face--."

Thaddeus broke in, "putting 'em down personally."

"It is important." Lafayette finished.

The others had caught up, with Jackson settling in alongside Thaddeus. "Seems like a good time to bring this up,” Jackson paused in what he was preparing to say, reaching for his cigarette makings, and canting an eye to the wet sky, left them in his pocket. "Anyway, when I was up in St. Joe purchasing medical supplies, I heard plenty of men speakin’ of you two."

Jimmy nodded, "Same when I be delivering cheese, over the winter. Everywhere they be barking their mouths about y'all."

The chipped-tooth, crooked grin took over Thaddeus' face, " _qu’elle_ y’all been hearin’?”

Jimmy shrugged, quietly replying, "that them Crowe brothers be out for blood."

“That should _non_ fuckin’ surprise,” Thaddeus replied.

"I heard in St. Joe that y'all were as dangerous as starved wolves."

Thaddeus punched his brother in the arm. "You hear that?"

"Yeah, I be hearing similar, and that ya be barbarous killers, and how Taddy here..."

when Jimmy brought up Thaddeus, Jackson turned his attention on Lafayette, "...has himself, a real talent with a revolver."

Lafayette was not only no longer smiling, but his left dimple was flickering.

"It be the Lord's truth, what I be sayin'. And they be for knowing y’alls looks.” Noticing his Captain’s rising anger, Jimmy passed him a smile, “I be considering it right smart, ya cut off ya long hair, Capt’."

Clearing his throat, Jackson said, "also, Lafe, you should know, they are sayin’ you must be a demon incarnate.”

Both Crowe brothers’ eyes widened at this.

“They speak of your dimpled smile being sweet as a choir boy’s song, and you enjoy playing it out to its fullest…right before you blow a man's head off. And you..." Jackson poked Thaddeus. "They are making that nickel-plated Remington of yours into a fable. I heard tell, more than once, when you pull it, the sun flashes off its polished surface, it is the only hint a man gets before you shoot him dead."

Thaddeus grinned.

"Go on and grin, Taddy, but they also say you have eyes greener than a spring day, curse like you are eatin’ at the tables of hell, and you have less computation ‘bout killin’ a man than a Diamondback does."

"He be correct there,” Jimmy nodded at Thaddeus. “I be hearing plenty o' talk about ya emerald eyes. People go on ‘bout how they be so unusual that when ya see 'em, ya will know ya be standing before Tad Crowe."

Thaddeus’ brows rushed together like raven's wings. “ _Fils de pute_ , Lafe, if’n we do not want to be identified sounds like you ain't to be fuckin’ smilin’, while I would do best to keep my hat pulled low."

Lafayette frowned, rubbing at his face.

Not sure what their leader was thinking, they all fell silent.

Looking from one Crowe to the other, Brody fell to hooting with laughter.

The brother’s turned shocked faces toward Brody.

“Gabe would fuckin’ love this! Those same traits, which have been righteous pains in all our backsides, when it came to y’all beatin’ us to the gals..." Brody whacked Lafayette across the shoulders so hard he jostled him in his saddle. “…yup, Gabe would love this. ‘Cause now the same damn traits is kickin’ y'all in ya own backsides."

Cocking an eye at his brother, Thaddeus softly said, "Hell of a thing at that ain't it, Lafe?"

The broad dimpled, confirmed, notorious smile appeared. "Ain't it though?" Laughter rolled from Lafayette, and with it, the sour mood; he had been riding with since the State line.

Walking along the road into Big Springs, the Rangers openly chatted, except when others passed by. Then they would sink into their oilskin slickers, silence looming twice as loud around them.

After about the fifth wagon loaded with families passed, Jimmy claimed, "Hey, Capt' it appears ya be correct, it be looking to be quite the turnout for the stock auction."

Lafayette’s face bunched in a scowl as he checked to see if others along the road might have overheard Jimmy Gamble. “ ** _Ta gueule_** , Jimmy, and do not be callin’ _moi_ Capt.”

“Apologies, Capt’,” Jimmy replied with an apologetic shrug of his expanse shoulders. “Uhm, what does _ta gueule_ mean?”

Lafayette turned on the barrel-chested man with both eyebrows raised while motioning his Rangers out of the road so a wagon loaded with chicken cages could pass. As it did, they smiled, tipping their hats; except for Lafayette, he twisted about busying himself with adjusting the straps on his saddlebags.

The driver only glowered in return.

Once he was by, they nudged their horses out into the road.

“So, what be it mean?”

Thaddeus sniggered, “Means shut up.”

“Well, damn Cap…Lafaye—”

“Do not call _moi_ that either.”

Looking left and right, Jimmy centered back on Lafayette, “Damnation, what am I supposed to call you then.”

"I deem it would be wise for us to use aliases."

"Aliases?" Clyde Massey rubbed his chin, "that be more of your confusin’ Frenchy speak?"

A snorted chuckle rose from Thaddeus.

Clyde threw a look his way.

"Ain't laughin’ at you."

Clyde growled lowly.

Overriding the pair of them, before it went any further, Lafayette said, “it is Latin."

"Ah, then it be some of ya barrister speak," Jimmy said, nodding to Thaddeus, who snorted again.

"An alias is usin’ another _de nom,_ in order, to hide your identity."

"Sounds like a fine idea." Jackson said, "I shall be Eric Mathews."

The others looked thoughtful.

"Bob." Thaddeus declared, pointing at himself.

Jimmy asked, "Bob, what?"

"Just, Bob."

"What ya be for saying if 'n someone be asking ya full name?"

"That it ain't none of their fuckin' business."

Jimmy flicked the end of his curled, handlebar mustache, "that so?"

" **Fuck you, Jimmy!** I do not need no fuckin' last name."

"Hey, watch your mouth!" Lafayette snarled, “from here on out, _you_ ain't to be cussin’ until we are away from Big Springs. I want _you_ actin’ as if’n _you_ are at a church social with Grand- _mère_. _Compris_?"

The muscles along Thaddeus jaw pulsed. But he nodded.

Laughing gently, Lafayette cheerfully told their pals, "I would like y’all to know, we _vraiment_ tried…” He swerved closer to Thaddeus, giving him a playful shove, “…to raise ‘em up civilized; honest we did."

There was a good round of laughter; eventually, Thaddeus joined. "Fine, I will be Bob Gray."

JT said, "Fancy, I will be Tom Bit."

"Yeah, and I will be Fred Bit." Clyde said, "Since they are both just a _bit_ of our names." Then they both fell to giggling.

"Sometimes, I not be for appreciating y'alls humor." Jimmy said and hitching a thumb at his self; he declared, "I shall be Frank James."

Every man jack of them looked at Jimmy.

“What?” Jimmy asked, sitting straighter, “it be my Granda's name and mine put together."

They continued staring at him.

"Y'all buckos chose _bits_ of ya names."

"Um," Jackson said, "that name is already in use."

"Well, I be sure it is... Frank and James be quite common names, figured that be all the better."

Rolling his eyes, Thaddeus’ sneered, " _Frank James_ is a Ranger from Clay County."

With a chuckle, Brody added, “Well, maybe not right now; I heard Frank might’en be thinkin’ of enlisting.”

"Sides, Jimmy, everyone ‘round Clay knows the Jameses are dyed in the wool Democrats.” Clyde said, winking at Jimmy, “Ya sure ya want to be mistaken for Frank?"

Jimmy's full cheeks turned red, and he chuckled. "Well, damn and by glory. I suppose I could be sounding like I be him, and then I being another alias to go along with that one. Suppose I will be Frank Smith instead."

Brody nodded, "well, y’all can be or callin' me, Riley Delany, me buckos."

Jimmy passed Brody a twisted scowl.

"Always wanted a simple name; be like everyone else,” Lafayette peeked across at his friends. “I shall be a plain old John...John Bird."

Riding past the overflowing springs, Big Springs had taken its name from; they had to search out an empty hitching rail once in town. However, even though the seven of them had tried to look unlike themselves, they still did not look like the farmers surrounding them.

Trying not to react to the pair of men looking him over, Thaddeus whispered, "We all should split up."

" _Mon_ exact thoughts, _m’ frère_."

"Hey now, _John,_ if ‘n I gotta keep my cursin’ to myself, you best be doin’ the same with Creole."

The other Rangers nodded.

Pointing to a tree line where families with extra livestock tied to their wagons were parked, Brody dropped an arm about Jimmy, liltingly saying, " _Frank_ and me be for headin’ that way."

“That be not funny.”

Steering Jimmy to cross the street, Brody chuckle, “Oh, it be a somewhat funny, Frank, it surely be so.”

"Me and the _Bits,_ " Thaddeus said, motioning to the Massy cousins, "can scout downtown."

Without any further discussion, the trio took off, laughing and bouncing off one another, and Lafayette shouted, “Robert."

Thaddeus spun; eyebrows raised.

"Behave."

Looking to his pals, Thaddeus replied, "do we not always?"

Lafayette’s mouth popped open, and with a shake of his head, he shouted, "No! So, behave!"

Through his laughter, Thaddeus got out, "you fret too much," and trotting off, he caught the Masseys, their boisterousness drawing looks.

"I should have kept a Massey and sent you with ’em," Lafayette muttered, rubbing at the back of his shaved head, still watching the trio. "They look like they are just out of school."

"Or, just off the farm," Jackson said.

"Yeah, or that."

"Good thinkin’."

"Yeah." Lafayette nodded, " _non_ … _qu’elle_?"

"American."

" _Mes excus--_ sorry." Lafayette grinned out of one side of his mouth.

"They will be fine. They all look carefree, as boys should. Besides, even if they do not blend in..." Jackson let his voice drop, "... no one is going to suspect ‘em of being who they truly are."

"I suppose," Lafayette grumbled, still watching.

Pulling him around, Jackson said, "they seem to be makin’ the best of all this. Quite honestly, I would rather join them. However, I cannot because Bub, _you_ require a chaperon."

" _Qu’elle_?"

"American!" Jackson hissed, scratching at his close-cropped golden beard. "Are you plannin’ on controlling that rage of yours, if’n you find what you are searchin’ for?"

"Of course."

Jackson’s mouth quirked to the side.

"I will."

Crossing his arms, Jackson leaned his hip into the hitching rail, and drawing out his words, replied, "I do not believe you.”

“I said, I will!”

“And I still do not believe you anymore than I believe it will reach a hundred degrees this day."

Lafayette's face stilled except for his flickering left dimple.

Raising his chin, Jackson looked his friend straight in the eyes while thinking, ‘I am usually backin’ him up when he is layin’ that look on someone. Do not believe he has pinned me with it more than a couple of times in our lives.’ Stroking his lower lip with his index finger, he cooed, "Damn, Bub! That has to be a new record."

Lafayette’s lip curled, his nose wrinkling uptight.

"You realize, I just pushed you from perfectly sociable to ready to swing in under a minute."

A snort burst from Lafayette, "Suppose, I might require a chaperon, at that."

Pushing off the rail, Jackson threw an arm about his lifelong friend's shoulder, "That is why I stayed, Bub. There is not anyone other than Taddy, who fathoms you as I do. So, how about tucking that rage of yours in your back pocket for a while. At least, until you find something to be angry with."

Lafayette studied his scuffed boots, seeing flashes of how angry he had been, all the time, these past months. Canting his eyes to Jackson, he asked, "Want to get a beer?"

Jackson cocked an eyebrow, "You rightly know, I consider beer to be what horse piss must taste like."

Lafayette chortled. "Fine, I will get a beer, and you get what you like."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Lafayette answered. "We got all day to search."

Jackson exhaled, and it felt like his first easy breath in weeks.


	11. chapter NINE

Chapter Nine

Big Springs’s livestock auction had filled the town’s walks beyond their capacity. Exemplified when the struts of the boardwalk before The Wet Dog Saloon broke, rolling a collection of men into the throughway. Which until two days ago had been a dusty, dry road, except now with the multitude of livestock in town and drizzling rain, it had been churned into a slippery, sucking channel of mud intermixed with excrement.

Jimmy and Brody blatantly stared at the men scrambling from the stinking sludge.

"By Glory," Jimmy Gamble said, covering his mouth to hide his smile. "Please, tell me you be for seeing no one we knows."

Brody Johnson shook his head, "No, and I hope to hell..." He peeked at the gawking crowd, leaning closer, whispered, "... neither Crowe is in that slop."

"I be in absolute agreeance, Bucko."

Tilting his hat back, Brody shook his head. “Hell’s gates, they are so persnickety ‘bout being clean; they might have themselves an all-out conniption fit."

Twirling a curled tip of his waxed mustache, Jimmy replied, "Well, some o' us, Brody me Bucko, be for believing, it be best to bathe more than once a month."

Whipping about to Jimmy, Brody snapped, "I bath, before I am ripe."

“By whose standards?"

Rolling his broad shoulders, Brody took a step closer.

Having a guesstimate of what his pal was considering, Jimmy hastened toward the nearest boardwalk. "Now, now, I be for making a point that be all."

Coming after him, Brody called, "Oh, I be thinkin’ of makin’ a point, also."

Breaking into a trot, Jimmy cajoled, "All righty, Bucko, as much as I be wishing to see who o' us packs a better wallop, we best be for staying focused on our task at hand. Sides, if 'n you recall, _John_ , detailed us to behave with church social manners." Leaping on the boardwalk before Webb & Carter Mercantile, he tipped his bowler hat to the chattering ladies gathered beneath the store’s immense awning.

The nearest one, a pert nosed young lady wearing a blue bonnet, smiled back.

"Sure, be a terrible mess," he responded, passing her a daring wink. Taking a furtive look over his shoulder, he saw Brody coming on like a prodded badger and kept moving, repeatedly calling out with his thick, lilting brogue, “excuse me, Ma’ams, excuse me.”

Catching up, Brody shot a hand over Jimmy’s shoulder, “Hey, look!”

No more than a block ahead was Thaddeus, Clyde, and JT.

Cupping his hands about his mouth, Brody bellowed, " _BOB_! Hey, _Bob_!"

His shout so startled the ladies, they jumped, a couple shrieking. One little brunette even dropped her packages.

Seeing what he had done, Brody pinked up brighter than the insides of a watermelon.

“I have never seen such terrible manners,” declared a gray-haired matron with a carved, walking stick that she thumped fiercely on the boardwalk.

Certain she was fixing to bat him with the stick, Brody hastily shuffled beyond her reach, until suddenly, he was wobbling on the edge of the walk.

Jimmy’s right arm snapped out, hauling Brody in, even as his left swept off his bowler. “My, no, _our_ apologies, Lasses." Resetting his hat at a dashing cant, he knelt, gathering the dropped brown-paper, wrapped packages.

Red from his scalp down, Brody, too, muttered an apology ducking off after Thaddeus and the Masseys.

Handing the packages back to the young lady, Jimmy grinned brazenly at her, then ran after Brody Johnson. “Brod... I mean, _Riley_ , you still be for seeing them?"

Trying to through the sea of people, Brody frowned, scratching the side of his neck, but on spotting a pile of crates, he vaulted atop. In short order, he hopped down, calling, “come on."

Dodging through people, they slid to a stop at the end of the block just as Thaddeus, Clyde, and JT were crossing the street.

" _Bob_ ," Brody shouted, then even louder, " _BOB, FRED, TOM!_ "

The trio spun about reaching for their firearms and seeing Brody, grinned like children in trouble, nudging one another as they did so.

Running over to where they stood under a tree whose bare limbs were dotted with small purple flowers and tiny heart-shaped leaves just beginning to open, Brody punched Thaddeus in the arm. "Been callin’ you for more than two blocks. How come you answered to _Bob_ the moment your brother hollered, but not when I do?"

"Cause he shouted Robert, not Bob. And believe you, me, I have heard 'em holler...” He leaned his mouth near Brody’s ear, “Thaddeus Robert enough to recognize 'em when he does."

"Well, damn, then I am callin’ ya, Robert, for now on too _._ ”

Thaddeus just grinned back at Brody. “So, y'all turn anything up?”

Pulling Thaddeus in close, Brody whispered, “we found Gabe's horse."

At the mention of his murdered brother, Thaddeus jerked ramrod straight. “ _Qu’elle?!_ ”

Brody growled, ‘watch yourself,” pulling Thaddeus back in close. “But it damn well was Artorius would know that horse with my eyes closed.”

Thaddeus peered over at Brody with a feral grin. “Hot damn, La-," he gulped, swallowing his brother’s name. “He was right." Then his smile and mood both twisted sideways. "Where the fuck is he?"

“Uhm, your brother or the horse, Bucko?”

Rolling his eyes, Brody jabbed a thumb toward some tall trees along the edge of town. “He is staked down there, with some other horses that look to be headed for the auction ring."

Ducking under and out of Brody’s hug, Thaddeus tugged his hat straight, striding toward the trees.

Having to jog to keep up, Clyde cautioned, “ _Robert,_ do not be causin’ a scene. _John_ said none of us was to cause a scene."

"I only want to have a fuckin' chat with whoever thinks Artorius is his to sell."

Jimmy and JT shot each other a look, and clearing his throat; Jimmy said, "Hey, Bucko, maybe it be best if’n we be fetching _John_ first."

"Ain’t waitin’ that long."

"I be deeming, it be best if’n he knew."

"Then fuckin’ find ‘em if you want, me I am checkin’ on Artorius.” Thaddeus’ narrowed eyes slid to Jimmy, ‘and, I ain’t fuckin’ waitin.”

Pulling to a stop, Jimmy stared after the others headed for the cluster of tied livestock, thinking, ‘him there without Lafe not be a good idea at all.’

Under the tall, curved cottonwoods still bare from winter were six wagons and an entire line of horses, most of them standing relaxed on three legs.

“Where is he?”

Brody pointed, softly answering, “by that three-arm cottonwood with the break in the middle.” Until this moment, it had felt like Gabriel was only somewhere else to Brody. But seeing Artorius and knowing Gabriel was not going to greet him made his death painfully real.

Abruptly Brody felt weak in the legs. Gabriel Crowe had been a brother to him, their friendship starting when Thaddeus was only a babe. In the few moments it took for those thoughts to fill him, Brody realized he could hear hard panting next to him. ‘I must watch over ‘em just as Gabe would want me to.’ He thought, wrapping an arm about Thaddeus’ shoulders. But the boy he once pinned to the ground as easy as tossing a rock felt as unyielding as forged iron. Moving his mouth to Thaddeus’ ear, he whispered, “easy there, Taddy, take a breath.”

Thaddeus’ eyes were darting over the men nearest the line of horses, his mouth set firm, and his nostrils flaring.

“Come on, Taddy, easy.”

Thaddeus shrugged him off.

Quicker than a bullet hits its mark, Brody had his arm back around him; "you need to take a breath."

" _Jésus pleura_ that is simple for you to fuckin’ say."

"No, it ain't!" Brody snapped back. "Blood made Gabe your brother, but he was mine, also. So, do not be tellin’ me; this is fuckin’ simple. But you start a ruckus here, it ain’t gonna be one we can win. You fuckin’ know Gabe would disapprove of barging down there like an ingrate without a plan."

Thaddeus bowed his head, his eyes tracing over the scrolled designs covering his Remington’s frame. Then through gritted teeth, he said, "I will not start a fight." Running a hand back around his neck, he peeked over at Brody. "I swear, I will not."

Searching the emerald eyes, Brody at last nodded. “All right, let us mosey down and see what we can discover."

When they came within in distance, Clyde called, “Hello to the fire.”

The group of men, drinking coffee about a smoldering fire, turned.

“Sirs, is these horses headin' for the ring?"

"They are," replied a man with a mustache, wearing a plaid coat and sheepskin gloves.

"Mind if'n my pal looks 'em over?"

"Not at all," said another, whose face was hidden behind a thick, black beard, and placing his tin cup on the seat of the nearest buckboard, he walked their way, and by the time he reached the horse line. Thaddeus was making a good show of being interested in a compact, splashy paint.

Halting near Clyde, JT, and Brody, the bearded man, said, "Well, Son, what are you looking for?"

"Tired of the broomtail, my Pa has me on," Thaddeus replied.

"That mare can cover miles for her size." The man answered, shoving his hands under his biceps as a cold wind came rushing by, carrying Thaddeus and his pal’s scents down along the line of horses.

Artorius' head shot up with a whinny, and bumping the horses either side of him, he pulled at his picket rope.

Slipping swiftly down the picket line, Thaddeus rubbed the gelding's muzzle, whispering, “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes."

"Hey now, Son, you best..." However, the black-bearded man's warning fell away as Artorius nickered like a foal pushing his broad forehead into Thaddeus’ chest.

Black-beard muttered, “Does that not just beat all…that Red is spiteful as all get out. He has not shown an ounce of friendliness since I got him."

"That is how Bob is." JT said with a goofy, heartfelt grin, "dogs, horses, and children.... they all take right to 'em."

"Still say, it is plain odd. That horse has done left marks on anyone who gets too near." The man said, scratching aimlessly of his ribcage with one hand. “He sure does cotton to your friend, though."

Nodding toward Thaddeus, Clyde replied, “no accountin’ for taste, I suppose."

Turning from Artorius, Thaddeus said, “Where are my manners?” Walking over, he offered his hand, “Names Bob. Bob Gray, my family, took on a plot outside Lawrence when we come from Iowa."

"I am Sherman Teel," the bearded man announced, and they all did a round of handshaking and introductions. Before they had finished, Thaddeus slipped back to Artorius.

Trailing after him, Teel shook his head at how the sorrel was placidly lifting each foot when the Thaddeus asked. “just beats the devil all to hell.”

Straightening, Thaddeus threw Teel a hard look. "You ain't been carin’ for 'em. He is underfed and well past trimming."

Stroking his beard, Teel studied Thaddeus before saying, “you might be right.” While thinking, ‘that damn beast would not be in such a state if he weren’t so dag-gone mean.'

Sliding his hand along the sorrel's shoulder, under his mane, Thaddeus’ brow furrowed; ‘a fuckin’ runnin’ irons been used.’ Pushing the thick red mane aside, he saw their brand had been altered to a _slash bar O._ However, the Crowe ‘Ca’ brand was still evident. “Do not recall, ever seein’ this here brand."

"That would be because he is not from these parts," Teel responded.

"You sayin’ he is a Border horse?"

Sherman Teel swelled up, loudly declaring, "absolutely not!" He glanced about, guilt obvious in his face, "Man I got him from said he came racing stock."

Thaddeus nodded, "How about I give you fifty for him now?"

Teel shrugged. "Nope, like to. But I got me a feeling he will bring a whole lot more in the ring."

Thaddeus rubbed at his mouth, "racing stock, huh?"

Sherman nodded; stepping up to the paint mare, he dropped an arm across her back.

"How long you had 'em?"

"Going on seven months."

"Why you selling 'em?"

"Oh, I was taken in by his looks.” Teel said causally, “except, he and I are unable to find an agreeing point."

Thaddeus patted Artorius, "Would you excuse me?"

"Sure, Son."

Motioning his pals to circle up, Thaddeus said, "Turn out your pockets."

They all stared at him.

"Come on, y'all, damn-well, know I am good for it."

JT's droopy eyes looked around the circle and back at Thaddeus, "Why?"

"I told y'all, I was not goin’ to stir anything up. But I sure as hell am not walkin’ away without Artorius. Now, turn out your fuckin' pockets." When he surfaced, he held a stack of banknotes. "Mr. Teel, there are a lot of horses headin’ for that ring, and if 'n he dislikes you as much as you say..." Thaddeus waved the currency.

Teel's expression turned right, jovial, "How much are you offering?"

"Two-hundred."

Teel looked to Artorius, and the sorrel laid its ears flat, which was all the convincing Teel needed; wrapping a hand around the offered money, he said, "Son, he is all yours."

"One more thing,” Thaddeus said, still holding tight to the two-hundred, “the man you got 'em from, he got any more for sale?"

Teel’s slate-blue eyes studied the anger simmering in the boy standing before him, thinking, 'he reminds me of a cornered rattler.' Before replying, "I do not believe so?"

Thaddeus smiled flat and tight, "I could check on that myself; if 'n, you would direct me to 'em."

The lack of humor in the smile set off a warning in Teel, “Why you want to know so bad?”

"Because…." Brody said, shoving himself between the two, plucking the two-hundred dollars from Thaddeus; he handed it to Teel. "… I also been wanting a blooded racer."

"Not sure he has anymore," Teel repeated, taking a step back, his eyes rolling to the men by the fire.

Spinning with a snort, Thaddeus stomped over, jerking Artorius' tie from the picket line.

An uncomfortable feeling flickered along Clyde’s spine. Peeking to the fire, he saw a couple of the men looking their way. Swallowing to clear his throat, he spoke up as brightly and lightheartedly as he could, "well, thank ya, Mr. Teel, suppose we shall be on our way."

They only made it a few strides before Thaddeus turned back with Artorius' lead-line dangling from his right hand, "I _want_ to know the man's name."

Teel could read the fury sparking from Thaddeus and taking in the revolver nestled so comfortably against his belly. He licked his lips.

"Teel!" Thaddeus barked, "his fuckin’ name!"

Sherman Teel’s Adam's apple bobbed fitfully.

The fingers of Thaddeus' left-hand twitched.

“Robert!” Brody snapped, wrapping an arm, once more, about Thaddeus’ shoulders, forcefully steering him around. "Come on, _Robert_ , your Pa’s gonna be surprised to see this big boy and wait ‘till _John_ gets a load of’em. Especially since you swore, you would not find anything worth fightin’ for."

Taking the hint, Thaddeus gave in, walking away, even as his anger continued to burn through him.

All the way down the muddy street, Clyde could feel his skin crawling, and it was all he could do to keep from looking back over his shoulder.

Just as they neared their line of hitched horses, Lafayette, Jimmy, and Jackson walked up, and no longer feeling so exposed and alone, Clyde exhaled loudly. “Swear, that was the longest walk I ever done made.”

There was no mistaking the emotion in Lafayette’s face when he ran a hand down Artorius’ back, "he the only _une_?"

Thaddeus nodded, "I think that bastard knew more, but..." He threw a scathing look at Brody. "... he would not fuckin’ let me ask further."

Bumping against his brother, Lafayette dropped an arm about his shoulders, his dimpled smile appearing. "Most likely for the best, most likely for the best."


	12. Chapter TEN

Chapter Ten

The eerie squeak of the bare briar branches moving in the wind sounded distinctly out of place beside the creek chuckling over the stones as the Crowe brothers waited in hiding.

Watching the muddy, vacant road, Thaddeus asked. "You figure we will find 'em?"

" _Oui,_ " Lafayette answered. "And, like you, I have a feeling _Monsieur_ Sherman Teel has more he would like to tell us."

Artorius tugged at his lead, reaching for greener grass, watching the horse, Thaddeus' mouth twisted, 'I keep expectin' to see Gabe step out from behind a tree.'

From the slant of his eye, Lafayette watched the emotions flickering over Thaddeus. Inhaling, he pinched the bridge of his nose, ' _Jésus pleura_ , I should have been there, Gabe.'

"You would be dead."

The whispered words pulled Lafayette from his thoughts.

"I fuckin' think on it, too, and if'n I had been there, hell, if 'n we both had…" Thaddeus looked away, "…I come to the same fuckin' conclusion every time. We would be dead. Were just too damn many of 'em, fuckin' _bâtards._ They would have shot us to pieces just as they did Gabe and Web."

Lafayette's dimple dug into his cheek, and rolling his head, he popped his neck.

"Lafe, even if--"

"We agreed, we would not discuss it." Digging his cigarette makings from his pocket, Lafayette rolled a quirley. Finishing one, he lit a second, and a third, the tobacco soothing his pumping blood, almost as thoroughly as a shot of whiskey.

The silence between brothers stretched out, becoming stagnate, and they both felt grateful when JT appeared on the horizon, gesturing to the west.

Getting a better hold on Artorius, Thaddeus kicked the horse he rode into a flat run. As they cut across a purpling field of henpeck, Lafayette's long-legged mare darted past him, pulling up first, beside their pals bunched a patch of scrub cedars.

Lafayette asked, " _Qu'elle_ is it?"

Brody grinned, "just wait."

Not long afterward, the jangle of a buckboard broke the quiet.

Without a word, Thaddeus climbed across onto Artorius' bareback.

"Taddy?"

Thaddeus' looked to his brother, and a silent conversation rippled between them, then Thaddeus was riding out of the cedars, positioning himself in the middle of the road.

Coming over the rise, Sherman Teel hauled on the brake, pivoting his head about, before calling, "Well, hey, Son." Cautiously, Teel studied Thaddeus and then the big, muscular sorrel standing calmly with only a lead line for a bridle. "Sure, cannot get over how Red is so comfortable with you."

"No reason he should not be," Thaddeus answered, pushing his hat, so it fell back to hang by its stampede strings. Doing so, he unveiled his vibrant green eyes. "I was there the day Artorius was born."

A look of wariness stole into Teel. "What did you say?"

"Even though I was there, it was _m' grand frère_ , Artorius took to, and Gabe felt the same. That is until it came time to train 'em. _Par Dieu,_ we all thought Artorius might bust Gabe's head wide-open, as many times as he slammed him to the fuckin' dirt. Did not matter though, _m' frère_ …let me make that clearer…my brother, loved this _cheval_ , right from the word go."

Teel's mouth hung unhinged as Thaddeus' words sunk in. His eyes darted to the rifle sitting beside him, and when he moved, Thaddeus' Remington appeared. The double-click of its hammer ominously loud.

Teel froze.

"Go right on and take up that damn rifle," Thaddeus ordered. "But, when you do, toss it overboard. _Au contraire,_ if'n you wish to make your move, you can damn well do that too. 'Cause believes _moi_ ; I am itchin' to blow your fuckin' head off."

Teel threw another more desperate look at the uninhabited landscape, his rifle making a soft thud when it sunk in the mud. "Now, Son, you are confused."

"I ain't fuckin' confused, and I ain't your fuckin' son."

When the rest of the Rangers emerged from the cedars, Teel gulped, looking like he had swallowed a frog sideways.

Stepping from his horse right down into the buckboard, Lafayette took a seat beside Sherman Teel with a dazzling, dimpled smile, politely said, " _Bonjour, Monsieur_ Teel."

Sherman Teel shrank away.

" _S’il vous plaît_ , let _moi_ introduce _mon_ self--”

"I know who you are." Teel choked, paling further, his gaze shifting from the shining six-shooter leveled at him to the green, green eyes of the boy holding it. "Know who you both are."

"Then that makes this all considerably easier. _Qu'elle,_ we would both like to know is how you came into the stewardship of our elder brother's horse."

"Perhaps, your brother--"

Lafayette gripped Teel's arm, "Stop!"

Teel swallowed, so loud it could be heard.

Slipping the reins from the man's limp hands, Lafayette hipped up the team.

Teel's eyes bulged a bit, but he remained in spot like he had been nailed there.

"Let us begin again without lies," Lafayette said agreeably, flashing a cherubic smile.

See, we all are fully prepared to gather this information from you. _Qu'elle_ you need to understand is I am allowin' you to choose how painlessly you wish to divulge it."

As they moved down the road, a man in a weathered old coat came toward them riding an even older mule, and Teel sat straighter.

"Be smart, you said, you know who I am. Do you deem I would have any difficulty havin' em cut down like kindling?" Lafayette shifted to look Teel full in the face, "You _Monsieur_ are _m'_ prize hound, and I ain't about to let anyone take you from _moi_."

Sherman Teel focused on Lafayette's black eyes, gritty and hard as coal dust, and he knew he was not merely making threats.

When the roan was nearly on top of them, Thaddeus rode closer to the wagon, placing his Remington just under the hem of his coat.

The old man seemed confused by the situation, even as he called, "Good day, gentlemen."

"Good day, Sir." Lafayette replied, "seems the rain is finally lettin' up."

"That it does."

As they passed, each Ranger tipped their hat, and Teel felt his mouth form in a smile.

"Well done, _M._ Teel, well done," Lafayette said, smooth as praising a dog for doing as it was told. "Do you feel ready to divulge what you know regardin', Artorius?"

"I was given the horse in payment."

Lafayette shouldered against the man, smiling jovially like they were best pals, " _très bonne…_ very good, now, payment for _qu'elle…_ what?"

Teel studied his muddy boots, mumbling.

Lafayette elbowed him in the sternum, "Speak up, I cannot hear you, _Monsieur_."

Gasping for air, Teel rubbed his chest "for storing stock."

" _Jésus pleura_ that is a mighty fine payment. _Qu’elle_ do you deem, Taddy?"

"Fuck yeah! Even being a gelding, Artorius' race record makes his value close to twelve hundred if'n I was to offer 'em up 'round the tracks. Damn, fuckin' _bonne_ pay, I would say."

Shifting the reins to his off-hand, Lafayette wrapped an arm about Teel's shoulders, shaking him playfully, "I do not deem you are exactly forthright with _moi_ , _M._ Teel, and I for that reason feel, I should let you in on a secret."

Teel felt cold to his bones as he stared into Lafayette's face, illuminated by what he felt could best be described as joy.

"See, _m'_ kindliness is all but used up." Lafayette winked, "which means you are _putain_ close to doin' this the difficult way?"

"It was stolen stock," burst from Teel. "I kept it hid, altered brands, I swear that is all I have done. I have only been across the border, but once, gone to St. Joe with my wife to pick up supplies from Patee."

Not a word was spoken, yet the glances passed between the Rangers spoke louder than words.

"You cannot blame me. I mean, it is not my fault. By Dickens, livestock and goods come across the border like water over a Big Spring's spillway. Someone is bound to make a profit storing animals, figured it might as well be me."

Lafayette's rage was almost tangible, and feeling it, Teel flexed his empty hands.

" _Le noms_ …names?"

"Who?"

Slowing the team, Lafayette's voice dropped low, "Why those _Monsieurs_ who stored stock with you. Any at all will do. However, the _bâtards_ who paid you with Artorius should be the first out of your mouth."

"Cannot help you."

Quick as a hoofbeat, Lafayette used one of the long guide reins to lasso a locked half hitch about Teel's neck shoving him from the buckboard.

Hitting the road, the man floundered in the mud, and Lafayette hipped the horses.

"NO!" Teel roared, scrambling to his feet as the leather pulled taunt about his neck.

"Hey, Doc?" Lafayette called, "you reckon being drug is a _mal_ way to go?"

"What I think is I do not like being called Doc, and yet, each of you persists in it."

"Ah, break off being so damn particular and answer _m'_ query... Lafayette chided, grinning good-naturedly.

"Doubt he will die from being dragged."

"Oh," Lafayette answered, hipping the team into a swifter trot.

Teel stumble ran, gagging, alongside his wagon.

"Most likely, if'n you do not, out and out, strangle him. He is goin' trip and fall under the wheels. And, most likely, they will also bust his legs to pieces or crush his rib cage, maybe both. So, even if'n he does not die from blood loss, I suppose, he could die from rot in his busted legs."

"Stop! Gawdamn it, stop!" Teel shouted, "I will talk."

"Not sure, I believe 'em."

Riding close, Jimmy said, "Aw, come on, Capt', be for giving him another chance. He might be recollecting how polite you were being afore."

With a chortled laugh, Lafayette brought the team to a halt.

"Richardson." Teel heaved out, clawing at the leather, digging a furrow in his neck.

"Richardson, who?" Lafayette asked, undoing the knot with a quick snap of the rein, letting it fall limply to the ground.

Doubling over, Teel gagged, emptying his lunch across his boots, wiping his mouth; he straightened, throwing an evil glare to Lafayette.

"Is you wishin' to take another run, _Monsieur_?"

"No, damn you." Teel gasped, gripping the wagon box for support. "Only one I ever dealt with was Micah Richardson."

"Where might we pay Micah Richardson a _visite_?"

"He lives east of Aubry," Teel answered, rubbing his neck. "You will not find any of his stock at his place."

" _His_ stock?!" Brody snorted, spitting a glob of tobacco juice on Teel. " _Feu de l'enfer_ , I saw so many Missouri brands in Big Springs, I would say, there ain't a lick of stock in this State which arrived with an honest bill of sale."

Motioning to the team, Clyde said, "Damn right, even these boys is wearin' Caldwell brands from up around Blue Jay. You got their papers?"

"No papers," Teel replied half-heartedly, "received them as payment."

"Speaking of payment." Thaddeus rode around the wagon to Teel. "I would like _m'_ two-hundred."

Teel bristled, "you bought that beast from me."

Before the words were entirely out of the man's mouth, Thaddeus was off Artorius, his fist catching Tell flat on the nose, the bone-crunching audibly. "You fucker! He _jamais_ belonged to you."

Staggering back, Teel clutched at his face, blood smearing between his fingers.

"You got balls; I will fuckin' give you that," Thaddeus said, landing a punch in Teel's soft belly. "Balls or not, I want _m'_ fuckin' currency."

Gagging and dry heaving, Teel fumbled out the money.

Removing his fifty, Thaddeus returned the rest to his friends, " _Merci,_ for the loans."

Driving the wagon off the road, Lafayette said, "Taddy, bring 'em along."

Once behind a stand of red cedars covered in tiny hard bluish berries, Lafayette hopped down, cutting the team free. He handed leads to Clyde and JT.

Teel brayed, "You cannot leave me without horses."

"Hey pinhead, you ain't graspin' the situation," Brody growled, kicking Teel between the shoulder blades, sending him sprawling past Thaddeus to land in the wet grass. "You are damn lucky if 'n it is decided to leave you with your life." Pulling his Colt, Brody asked, "or is we Capt'?"

Settling into his saddle, Lafayette turned his sorrel to stare for a spell at Sherman Teel, "Give the shot to Taddy."

Smiling like a raccoon Thaddeus bounced over, and as he passed his brother, Lafayette declared in a tone that offered no compromise. "Leave 'em alive, but Taddy, if'n he survives, make 'em feel it forever."

Teel scampered backward, "Now, Son, please. There is no need for you to do this, please, Son."

"As I said before, I ain't your fuckin' son." The sharp crack of the Remington spooked roosting starlings, and the birds rose in a great black cloud, their high-pitched cries of indignation covering Teel's screeching as he rocked back-and-forth grasping the shattered lower half of his right leg.

Riding close, Lafayette said, "Let this be a lesson. Do not be assistin' anymore fuckin' _bâtards_ who loot, burn out, and murder men who are _non_ different from oneself." Spinning to the east, he shouted, "Rangers ride."


	13. chapter ELEVEN

Chapter Eleven

**Saturday, 20 th of April 1861**

Lafayette’s mouth went dry, and throwing a look to his Rangers, he made the sign of the cross, slamming his heels to Coffee. As they raced along the beaten road into Harrisonville, the reverberating gunfire and shouting had his blood running cold. Pulling a Colt from a saddle holster, he said a quick prayer. Yet it was not a conventional prayer, but one allowing him the ability to slaughter every invader, destroying his hometown, further damning his soul to hell.

However, when the Crowe Rangers burst upon the town square, they did not find their neighbors battling for their lives but hurrahing in celebration. Sheer unadulterated relief brought grins to the Ranger’s faces so fast you could almost hear them snapping into place.

Except for Lafayette, a dark sadness filled him. " _Par Dieu_ , it has happened."

“Is it _vraiment_ war?” Thaddeus asked, his eyes darting here and there. Rubbing of his crucifix, he turned on his brother. “Are we at war?”

Seeing the mixture of excitement and anxiety cloaking, Thaddeus reminded Lafayette of his brother’s youth, and remorse sparked hot within him. Swallowing at the bitterness he felt, he softly answered, “Appears so, Taddy.”

Thaddeus pulled in closer to his brother, “But, Missouri voted to remain with the Union.”

"By Golly, someone best be for explaining that to a lot o’ these here folks," Jimmy said. Hitching a thumb at the owner of Willer’s Emporium and Patrick Morris, printer of the Cass County Gazette, stridently barking at each other their defenses of Northern and Southern ideology.

“Jimmy, I would say, it does not appear as if people are in a listenin’ mood," Orville answered, spinning his mare, Maddie, to take it all in. Then letting out a “yahoo!” he beamed at his friend. "Ain't this sweet as white sugar, we are at War!"

The skin about Thaddeus’ eyes was pinched tight when he asked, " _Qu’elle_ ‘bout us?"

Not wanting to feed Thaddeus’ apprehension, Lafayette replied, "Ah, hell, I am always ready to listen." But what came to mind was a conversation the pair of them had shared a stormy night, what felt like a decade ago.

Thaddeus’ nose wrinkled tight, “ _Zut!_ Do we join up with Sterling Price?"

"That is a decision each must make for himself," Lafayette replied, affectionately slapping Thaddeus on the shoulder. “I, sure as Hell, am not! I am stayin’ here, doin’ as we have been. Price will get plenty of men, but the border... our neighbors, still require a defensive line."

"Hell right, Capt'," Brody hollered, the other Rangers cheering in agreement.

Thaddeus nodded, his thick, black lashes dropping low, masking his eyes.

Steering closer, Lafayette dropped his voice, " _Petit frère?_ We ain't shirkers. We still have a job to do here _._ ”

Thaddeus passed him a smile that was tepid, at best.

Lafayette broke into his broadest dimpled grin, the sort of which made another person naturally smile back in return. “Cease frettin’…. sides, I am right here by your side."

Thaddeus nodded solemnly.

Cupping the back of his brother’s neck, Lafayette softly said, “Mean it, cease frettin’. We shall stop by the Post Office, then go over to Iverson’s bath for a hot soak, and then a meal at Maggie’s, end up for drinks at the Dipper."

The crooked, chipped-tooth grin brought forth Thaddeus’ single dimple, and with a nod, he said, "sounds like a fuckin' ace-high plan."

“Rangers,” Lafayette hollered, spinning Coffee to his men. "Y’all _garçons_ try to behave. Taddy and I shall catch up with y’all later."

With a round of raucous ear-splitting hollers, the Rangers split off in various directions.

Moving down Wall Street with its freshly painted buildings, Lafayette and Thaddeus steered their horses through crowds thronging the streets. As they rode, Lafayette took note of the growing division among the residents of his hometown. Then he saw Jacob Green and Liam Strathmore standing toe to toe exchanging blows, two men who had worked alongside each other all their days, and deep inside, Lafayette felt a part of himself crumple.

Averting his eyes from the circled-up crowd about the saddle maker and feed store owner, Lafayette took a deep breath, dropping his best poker face in place to disguise the revulsion and fear he felt billowing up from his gut.

Thaddeus called to his brother from the corner of Independence Street, who was still halfway back on Wall. "Hey, Lafe!" Cain snorted, flicking his tail. "You with _moi_?"

Lafayette kicked Coffee up, his eyes straying back to the fistfight until it was cut from view when he rode into the stable yard of Brady’s Livery.

Stepping down, Lafayette shrugged from his coat, slinging it across his saddlebags, and slapping his reins about the hitching rail. “Taddy, settle the _chevals._ I will see if’n we have any mail and meet you at Iverson's.”

Thaddeus merely shrugged, but when Lafayette was walking away, he spotted his brother’s coat. “Lafayette Henri!”

Lafayette turned, just in time to catch his long, brown wool coat full in the face.

“I ain’t luggin’ your fuckin’ goods like some cabin boy, strip your gear from your _cheval.”_

Laughter rolled from Lafayette, and shrugging; he said, “it was worth a try.”

Thaddeus’ nose wrinkled, tight, his eyes narrowing, and he raised his middle finger to his brother. “Sometimes, you don’t know how fuckin’ lucky you are _J’adore_ you.”

“Oh, I know, Taddy.” Lafayette replied, laughing more, “I rightly know. Ain’t I the one who has peeled you out of most of your brawls.”

“I fight _m’_ own battles. _Qu’elle_ you getting’ at?”

“Just that I know how well you fight ‘em.” Lafayette swung his saddlebags across his shoulder, pulling his rifle from its boot. “So, I do know how lucky I am.”

“Hey, what about your revolver holsters.”

“You get ‘em.”

Reaching the Post Office, Lafayette pushed through the blue and orange trimmed white door, a bell jangling above his head.

From the backroom, he could hear movement and setting his rifle and coat on a chair; he leaned his forearms on the counter just as a blonde with curls escaping from her tightly braided hair appeared.

Sweeping off his hat, he tossed it atop his jacket, “ _Bonjour Mademoiselle.._.” his eyes left her to glance over the office, “ _qu’elle…where_ is Samuel?”

“Mr. White departed his position as Post Master to enlist.”

A frown traced across Lafayette’s face, “that so?”

“My husband Isaiah and I have been newly assigned here,” she offered her hand, “Ursula Martinson.”

He glanced at his dirt-smudged hand as did she, and still, she held hers promptly before him. Taking it, he said, “nice to meet you, _Madam_ Martinson. Is your _mari…_ husband not about?”

“He has gone to fetch the next batch of mail from Independence. Now, how may I assist you, Sir?”

“Heard in the street, there was a shipment of Eastern newspapers, and this was the place to purchase ‘em.”

“You heard correct.” Reaching under the counter, her brows dipped together. “Appears, I need to restock.” Turning away, she kept talking as she walked into the backroom. “I must say, I am outright amazed how out of touch Harrisonville is from the rest of the world. Being the County Seat, I considered it would not be so…well, lost in the wilderness. Not one person informed us before we took this commission that this County has neither telegraph nor train lines. I truly had no idea Cass was so rural.”

Lafayette’s dimples danced with merriment, “ _Oui,_ we are a bit out on our own here.”

Reappearing with an armful of newspapers, she shook her head. “Why is that? We are in the 1860s; other areas have trains.”

A small laugh rolled from Lafayette, “suppose it is our rocky ridges and overgrown valleys; they make improvements difficult. Where are you from _Madame_ Martinson, if’n you do not mind _m’_ inquirin’?”

“Oh, no, not at all. Isaiah and I came from Chicago.”

“I see, then we must appear terribly backward to you.”

She smiled, “My mother, bless her soul, used to tell me if you stay put, you will remain safe and secure. However, what good is being safe and secure if you never experience excitement and adventure. Therefore, I remind myself, Isaiah and I are on an adventure. Now, would you like a New York Tribune or…” her nose twitched, “… a Charleston Mercury?”

“I will take _une_ of each, _s'il vous plaît_.”

“That will be one bit.”

“Did I hear you correct?”

Raising her chin, she looked him straight in the face with her sharp china-blue eyes. “I had Isaiah pay for these papers to be shipped here since news, especially out here, is at a premium. So, the going price is one bit.”

At this, both his eyebrows rose, “if’n I am figurin’ right that is close to an eight or nine cent profit.”

“I believe in definition; free enterprise refers to supply and demand. There is a demand, we are supplying it, and you, Sir, are not required to purchase.”

A corner of Lafayette’s mouth quirked, and shaking his head, he dug into his vest pocket, “I will take both. I would also like any mail addressed to Sienna or Crowe.” In the sunlight streaming through the pristine clean windows, he caught the widening of her eyes that accompanied a distinctly sharp inhalation. His grin grew bolder. “Take it _vous_ have heard of _moi._ ”

“I have, and you are a…” she eyed his brace of revolvers suspiciously, “a---”

“A _monsieur, une_ who deems _monsieurs_ , _madames_ too, are the same despite their skin color or origin of birth. _Une_ point to garner on your adventure here in _m’_ home State, we Missourians will surprise you. It would do _vous_ best if’n _vous_ did not lump us all together under _une_ title.”

She gawked at him like he had offered her a bite of a dead cat, and stepping hastily to the wall of cubby holes, she looked in the one labeled ‘s’. Then in a brisk, cold voice, she said, “there is nothing for Sienna.”

“Did not deem there would be. Figure by now, word has gotten ‘round of how the Jayhawkers burn it to the ground.”

She was flipping through the envelopes she had removed from the ‘c’ cubby hole as he said this, and her eyes peeked his way. “Was that your home?”

“It was.”

Nodding lightly, she kept a pair of envelopes, returning the rest to the cubby. “These seem to be for you.” She said, the contempt in her voice brittle to hear. “They have arrived from down South.”

“Most likely _m' sœurs…_ my sisters _._ ”

“So, then, your family is Southern?”

In direct opposite to her uncivil tone, he warmly replied, “ _Oui_ and also Americans.”

Placing the letters in his open hand, Mrs. Martinson took in the crinkles about his expressive, brown eyes, thinking, ‘he appears to be a kind man, one who has laughed often.’ Abruptly, she reached across the counter, laying a hand on his arm, “Mr. Crowe, my apologies, suppose all the war talk has me out of sorts and feeling like fighting, a bit, myself.”

“Apology accepted, _merci beaucoup…_ thank you,” he replied. Tucking the letters inside his vest. He returned his hat to his head, draping his coat over his arm, and taking up his rifle, he touched a finger to the brim of his hat with a lop-sided, dimpled smile that crinkled his eyes, just as she had supposed they did. “A pleasant day to you, _Madame_ Martinson.”

Once on the walk, he opened a newspaper, reading as he strolled to Iverson’s Barber and Bath House. Transfixed by all that had occurred at Fort Sumter, he stood stock-still in front of Iverson’s utterly lost in his reading.

Clearing his throat, Gregory Iverson asked, “Which one is that?”

“Charleston Mercury.”

“Damn, I was hopin’ you had purchased the New York Tribune so that we could swap.”

Lafayette flagged the Tribune at Gregory.

“Thanks for the loan, plain out shocked what that lil’ northern minx is chargin’.”

Lowering his paper, Lafayette glowered at Gregory, his dimple beginning its dance.

“Hey! That is damn close to the look Pa lays on me from time to time.”

“Where she is from. Whether you like her or even her profiteering… she is _still_ a lady. And as such, deserves respect.” Lafayette replied, returning to his reading.

“Like I said ‘bout purty damn near what Pa would have given me.”

Exhaling, Lafayette asked, “How is your Father?”

“Gout has got ‘em down. His foots ‘bout big as a ham hock, if’n you care to believe it.

Makes him a damn miserable grump, got so I prefer workin’ long hours than being home.”

“Taddy inside?”

“Ain’t seen ‘em.”

“Then, he will be along, soon enough.” Lafayette’s eyes trailed back to the piece he was

trying to finish.

Gregory scanned the New York Tribune’s headlines, “Hey, Lafayette, you took to being

educated more than most of ‘n us…”

Lafayette looked up; one eyebrow arched.

“…what you make of all this?” Gregory asked, turning the headline declaring: _It is_

_Official: The Conflict has Commenced_.

Lafayette looked off at his hometown, which already felt abnormal to him. “This war

proves that we, as an educated race, in an enlightened age, are unable to communicate rationally.”

“You ain’t excited about it.”

“I am not.”

“Then, you sure do not sound like any of the others; I been speakin’ too.”

“Suppose not, just cannot see any _bonne_ comin’ from this.”

Gregory dropped his shoulder against the doorframe of his shop, “why is that?”

“It is far removed political leaders, and trust _moi_ , Gregory, both the North and South have their fair share of leaders. So, it ain’t goin’ to matter which side a man aligns too. The leaders above are goin’ to call for ‘em to spill his blood upon the altar of their cause. And those same men will damn-well never dirty their hands but will expect all of’n us to continue spillin’ our blood ‘till we ain’t got _non_ more. And, once we are dead and gone, their political dance will continue as if’n not _une_ of us ever existed.”

“Pretty morose, Lafayette.”

Lafayette shrugged.

“Maybe, some of what you say is why Governor Jackson said what he did.”

“What the Governor say?” Thaddeus asked, walking up on the conversation.

Removing a folded news sheet from his apron pocket, Gregory cleared his throat. “The

Federal Government says that each State is required…” He winked at Lafayette, “… to supply men for troops. And, our Governor, he up and refused to supply Missourians, sayin’ _"Your requisition, in my judgment, is illegal, unconstitutional, and revolutionary in its objects, inhuman and diabolical, and cannot be complied with."_

Thaddeus brows furrowed, “that means Missouri ain’t fuckin’ goin’ to war?”

Lafayette threw him a cold look, “ _Jésus pleura_ , Taddy, Missouri’s been fightin’ an ever-escalating war since ‘54. How much more fuckin’ war you want?”

Thaddeus’ nose wrinkled, “so you sayin’ it’s all the same.”

“ _Chiant!_ Times are a loathe claimin’ you.”

Thaddeus’ mouth twitched to the side with a sharp chirking sound. “Well, then, sounds to _moi_ like you have already had enough politics for _une_ day.” Widening his smile, he winked to Gregory. “how ‘bout settin’ us up a pair of baths.”


	14. Chapter TWELVE

Chapter Twelve

Lowering into the hot tub of water, a hiss escaped Lafayette. Sinking in the rest of the way, he dunked under. When he emerged, he swept his bangs back from his eyes, fingering the close, cropped hair circling his skull, his nose wrinkling.

"Not used to it yet, huh?"

"Not by a long shot," Lafayette answered, flashing a smile at his brother. "Might not have been _une_ of _m’_ better ideas."

"Well, this sure as hell was," Thaddeus responded, dipping under the steaming water.

Reaching for the bench where his towel lay, Lafayette dried his hands, "Which first?"

Shaking his head and sprinkling droplets about him, Thaddeus replied, "Katherine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, let us get her scoldin’ done and over with."

Lafayette's snort became outright laughter, "now that _m' frère_ is a good plan."

**12 th of January 1861**

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

I have searched for peaceful words to set to paper. This is _mon_ third time to write, so I have decided to say precisely what is in my thoughts.

Lowering the letter, Lafayette asked. "You want to read this _une_?"

Plucking his freshly lit cigar from his mouth, Thaddeus released a tremendous smoke ring, “Nope, I read her last _une_."

Glancing at the letter and back to his brother, Lafayette sighed. " _Par Dieu,_ bet it is goin’ to be ladled with remorse and contrition."

"You must be dreamin’,” Thaddeus scoffed. “And I will take your bet. You are buyin’ dinner when you lose." Taking another draw of the cigar, he grinned. "I plan on havin’ steak and fresh vegetables, and I do not care what they cost you. Oh, and at least _deux_ pieces of pie."

Lafayette rolled his eyes.

I have decided I do not care what _you_ think, but I demanded Connor surrender your last letter. To his credit, he defended you both, using every reference of honor and duty he could muster. Myself, I am thoroughly disappointed, and even more, I am mortified to the point of disgust.

"Ha! You are buyin’." Thaddeus chuckled, sliding deeper into the water.

I considered each of you intelligent enough to realize what you are endeavoring to achieve is absurd--hunting men with the full intention to commit murder is against every virtue you were taught. How will you ever be allowed into our Savior's Kingdom if you strive to paint your souls with blood?

Smirking, Thaddeus chortled, "Through confession and plenty of Hail Mary's."

"Thaddeus Robert Crowe! That is not fundamentally how it works."

They gave each other a short glance, Thaddeus grinning and Lafayette scowling. "However, it does appear I am buyin’ your damn dinner."

Lafayette, I believed you when you left _L'eau Sucrée_ proclaiming you would return. Now it seems I cannot even find the words to express how angry I am with you. Furthermore, Thaddeus, do not consider that I am any less angry with you by any means. I find it detestable how the pair of you are running around playing at being soldiers, ignoring your true obligations. Mercifully, we have Connor at our sides. What a blessing since I cannot expect my own blood to protect us. This is it; I shall not write to you again. I will light candles and count rosaries in your names; otherwise, I shall not speak your names. If either of you had a shred of dignity, you will, at least, join a formal military unit, rather than becoming brigade outlaws. My word, what would Father say?

Turning the page back and forth, Lafayette sighed, " _Non_ _amour,_ _adieu_ , or anything else." "Bet she is a bear to be around."

Placing the letter in its envelope, Lafayette nodded.

"Makes me twice as glad we are here."

Flinging water at his brother, Lafayette scolded, “ _Putain d'enfer,_ if ‘n we were there, she would not be in this state."

"Do not be fuckin' foolin’ yourself; she has and will always find some point to grouse on, ‘specially when it comes to us... and perhaps, Josie."

Laying the letter on the bench, Lafayette set to scrubbing himself.

"You goin’ to read the other _une_?"

" _Non_ , you are."

Rocking his neck side to side, Thaddeus leaned over, grabbing Josephine’s letter. "You want to bet tonight's drinks?"

" _Non,_ " Lafayette replied, lathering his face to shave. “We are on the same side, cannot bet when you are on the same side."

"You thinkin’ Josie is goin’ to cheer us?"

"Hell, yeah," Lafayette replied, picking up his razor and turning the table with the mirror in his direction.

"Suppose it might ‘en be hard to bet then."

Arching an eyebrow, Lafayette flashed a quick grin before laying the razor to the dark scrabble lining his jaw.

**January 28, 1861, New Orleans, Louisiana**

Lafe & Taddy,

I have so much I wish to say. It is hard to know where to begin. Well, first off, I miss y’all and wish you were here. But I understand why you have not returned, unlike someone. Also, I will not write about Sienna. I have wept so much over what occurred I have made Jonathon worried. Besides, it is not possible what I feel amounts to one drop of what y’all feel.

By God, you were there; you peered inside the very doors of hell. That is what I cannot get her to understand. _Frères,_ I fully support your efforts. I only wish I were with you. I bet you are both shaking your heads at that. Do not worry; I will not head north.

Still, I wish I were there when y’all find them. Be that as it may, I will have to suffice knowing y’all will make every one of those murdering bastards pay. And, _frères,_ you make them pay dearly!

"See, no bet possible," Lafayette mumbled, raising his chin to run the razor up his throat in smooth, even swipes.

The smile on Thaddeus' face broadened, "We sure as hell raised that _fille_ right."

Lafayette's eyes sparkled merrily.

While we are apart, I will write y’all about our lives here. So, where to begin?

How about with Mikey? I swear he grew a full foot while I was away. I have decided he is a lot like you, Lafe, as he enjoys reading, mathematics, just learning in general. And Taddy, he sure loves that dapple horse you gifted him. When I see them together, I can also see the long hours you put into Osage, making him safe for Mikey. Honestly, it somehow makes me miss you even more.

Lafe, your man Julien, out at L'eau Sucree, has wonderfully trained Mikey into a top-rail equestrian. Although, personally, I think either of you would have done better. Then again, I have always bragged that y’all were the beatingest riders anywhere. Whenever our family comes visiting, Mikey rides Osage rather than sitting in the buggy. Sound familiar? He indeed is an authentic Crowe. I am positive y’all will be proud of him. I know I am. He does miss y’all and asks of you? As you can well imagine, he does not mention y’all in earshot of you-know-who.

Mams, aw poor, Mams, she wears her sorrow like a heavy shawl. She moved from the Royal house to my home, here in the Garden District. I know she did this so she can watch over me. Honestly, I am thankful as everything hit me so hard. NO! I said I would not write about it, and I will not. Instead, let me tell you why Mams refuses to leave my side other than I think she damn-well does not trust me. Anyway, I hope y’all are sitting down, but the next letter I send will include an introduction to your newest nephew or niece.

" _Qu’elle_?" Lafayette yelped, nicking himself with the razor.

"Hot damn, Josie is goin’ to be a _mère_!"

Lafayette chuckled, smiling hugely, "we are to be _Oncles..._ again."

Thaddeus' grin grew so large, his eyes crinkled until nearly no green showed at all.

Oh, how I wish I could have told y’all in person. I would adore to be suffocated by y’alls hugs and to see y’alls eyes sparkling with happiness. Speaking of this, Jonathon walks around smiling all the time. I figure he will be showing our child off like they are a track champion. I also expect people will begin turning tail when they see him coming. _Frères,_ he is so good to me, even now; thinking of him fills me with happiness. Which is also exactly why the Zouave unit they are raising here distresses me so.

The thought of my Jonathon going off to war makes my gut ache. I informed him if he leaves me here alone, I will never speak to him again. He only laughed, informing me I could not stay quiet one hour, even if a large wager had been made. I knew he was right. So, I told him that he will stay here with our child and me if he loves me, as he says.

Do not write me a scolding. I already know I am in the wrong. Did I not have y’all to teach me males do not care for ultimatums, backing down from a fight, or having their honor besmirched. But, _frères,_ I do not care about honor. What I care about is not having my husband shot at in some unknown battle.

Fortunately, I may get my way, well some. Last night, Jonathon's father, George, and his brothers were talking in the garden. Listening to them brought to mind the discourses you, Lafe, tortured Taddy and me with. But, knowing it regarded my families’ future, I bore with it. What I gathered is this... the Burgesses have their mitts in many business ventures. Although it is the mercantile trade, which brings the most significant profits, George feels it is essential, not just for our family but also for the Cause. By the way, I loathe that damn phrase. But he feels it is necessary to keep trade lines to Europe open.

Much of what is bought from millinery to artillery is shipped down from the North as I understood. So, George believes war will abolish northern trade, so by the end of the night, they discussed their shipping line being used for blockade runners. If this comes to pass, Jonathon and his brothers will captain boats under cover of night. So, he will still be aiding the cause, but leastways, he will only be gone for a few weeks at a time. 

I am not sure how much news you receive, Lafe, so this might interest you. Two days ago, Louisiana’s delegates voted to leave the United States. We are now a free and independent State. We did not join the Confederacy. I was told; it is because Louisiana no longer wishes to abide under any tyrannical government and does not desire to lay their welfare into the hands of a new, unknown government.

I have tried to keep up with Missouri. The papers say there was a populace vote; the outcome was Missouri did not secede. So, y’all are still part of the Union. Oddly, I am not surprised as Lafe, you, and Father both said Missouri would not go with the South. However, do you realize, down here, they call y’all Missourians Yankee Bastards? How ludicrous is it to call y’all Yankees? Anyway, when I hear someone say this, I get so mad I could just spit on them.

A full-throated laugh burst from Lafayette, " _Par Dieu_ , I hope she has not."

"You think she fuckin' would?"

Lafayette looked blandly over.

A low belly laugh rippled from Thaddeus, "yeah, she would."

I know Missouri is split right down the middle, and I know where my family stands, as well, as those we consider friends. You have not written about who is a part of your unit, but I can guess. I would say give each a big kiss from me, but that would earn y’all black eyes and split lips. Instead, tell them how proud I am of them, and I pray for their safety and for their shots to be exact at that they are ridding Missouri of wagonloads of Jayhawkers and scheming Yanks.

Thaddeus lowered the letter, "damn, but she is wicked... prayin’ for death."

"Does not surprise _moi_."

You should also know our _Grand-mère_ is a flag-waving secessionist. She says, “Louisiana never requested to be part of no Union and will do just fine on her own.” Her social groups are ridiculously busy, and she scurries from one event to the next, some days scarcely taking a breather in between.

Taddy, the Stable Line is doing grand. There are eight fillies and nine colts frolicking in the paddocks, plus twenty-two mares ready to drop. Per your instructions, Jonathon has lined up: Boreas, Hannibal, Gus, Vashti, and Helen for the race season. Oh, and Taddy, I still consider Helen of Harrisonville, an asinine name.

"I concur with her."

"She was the most _belle_ foal I ever saw."

"I still concur."

Oh, and Thaddeus Robert, I am also damn annoyed with you. The way you went on and on about Cain replacing Boreas, and you had a hundred horses to choose from, so what do you do, you ride off on our next champion! You rightly know, Father always said, the horses are to earn their titles and keep on the tracks before becoming pets. Gabe had to let Artorius spend his time on the track, even though he hated letting his boy go. But Gabe followed the laws of the stable. Of all of us, I do not understand why you saw yourself as so damn special that you could break Stable Laws.

Laughing heartily, Lafayette settled into the cooling water, catching his heels on the edge of the tub.

"You knew the Laws too, Lafe--”

"Oh, _Non_! Do not be throwin’ this back on _moi_. I agree with Jo."

Thaddeus brow furrowed into a deep v.

Anyway, it cannot be helped now. Can it? I tell you, Taddy, if Cain is injured. Or God forbid killed; it is on your head. You can carry the guilt that it was you who removed his blood from our stable line. Because we both know you did it out of pure childish selfishness. So, you just think on that, Thaddeus Robert Crowe!

" _Pour l'amour de Dieu_ , I am glad when we return to _Louisiane_ that is aimed at you."

Thaddeus’ crooked grin appeared, “Fine. But you wait ‘till Mams hears how you have taken to blasphemy and snorting like white trash, whenever it fuckin' suits you."

From the corner of his eye, Lafayette glared at his brother, "Laugh it up; she is goin’ to twist your ear clean off when she hears you can barely speak a sentence without sayin’ fuck."

Running a hand absently over one of his ears, Thaddeus went back to reading.

Since we have not negotiated any sales and _L'Eau Sucree’s_ stables were never designed to hold a breeding line, they are busting at the seams. But do not worry, new construction is on the way. I hear it is all unconventionally elegant, and I cannot wait to see it in person. Still, back to the stock, I am of the opinion we need to sell some, and with these new Officers strutting about the South, they would pay top prices. It makes my insides ache to think of our babies in a battle. However, it would bring goodwill to the Begnoir, Crowe, and Burgess names. It would be our way of showing we are behind the damn Cause and all.

I have poured over the notes you have been sending, Taddy, between them and the papers Mams brought with her, I am thoroughly acquainted with each animal. However, _Petit_ _Frère,_ not one rank mare or gelding, will be sold without your say so. I have always known it would be you who governed the Crowe stables, and I would not think to undermine you by selling a horse behind your back. Please let me know what you decide, and I will follow your orders to a T.

Thaddeus lowered the letter, chewing at the corner of his mouth.

"She is correct. I had other plans. Gabe never seemed interested. Figured he might ultimately want to manage the Line while on the race circuit. Still, I _toujours_ saw you at Sienna managing the stables."

Biting at his grin, Thaddeus searched for his spot.

Lafe and Taddy, I love you both. Never, I mean never, forget you have three homes here. So, until I can wrap my arms about each of you, guard the other one against taking worthless risks.

Love always, Jo

" _Doux Jésus_ , I miss her," Thaddeus said softly, folding the letter.

"You notice she barely mentioned Katherine, and when she did, not even by _nom_."

"I sure fuckin' did."

"I would wager they ain't speakin’."

Thaddeus cackled, "That there is a wager, I would not take."

Stepping from the water, Lafayette dried himself, "hurry up; I am hungry."

Sliding the straight razor along his chiseled jawline, Thaddeus muttered, "Imagine thirty-nine foals this season." Pushing his nose to the side and sucking in his lips, he slid the blade around his mouth. He glanced at Lafayette as he dipped the razor in the water. "You realize, it will be the first fuckin' time I have not been there to greet our _nouveau_ _famille_."

Buttoning his shirt, Lafayette paused, “ _Frère,_ _mes apologies_."

Thaddeus froze, the blade poised above his right cheek, "Ain't your damn fault, and it fuckin' cannot be helped."

"Perhaps we will be home before their trainin’ begins."

"Damn right, how long can this war go on. Look how we whip these Feds ‘bout here. The South is goin’ to grind them Yankees under their heel in _non_ time flat."


	15. chapter THIRTEEN

Chapter Thirteen

The tables of Maggie’s Kitchen were overflowing with loud talking citizens of Harrisonville, but it fell silent, heads turning when the Crowe brothers entered.

Maggie rushed up to them, "Taddy, Lafayette!" Grabbing them about their necks, she crushed them to her ample bosom. "It is good to see y'all."

“ _Bonne_ to see you also, _Madame_ Hildebrand. _”_

“For Harrisonville boys, it is Mags, tell y’all that do not know how many times.” Thaddeus' reply was muffled beyond understanding.

Having wiggled free of her hug, Lafayette gestured to his brother. "Uhm, Mags, I am kind of partial to 'em, and I deem you may be suffocating 'em."

Laughing heartily, she shoved Lafayette, releasing Thaddeus. “Let me look at y'all. My goodness, ya both look like half-starved pups." Herding them to a table near her kitchen, she hollered. "Percy, ya cut these boys some thick steaks."

The old negro cook replied, "will do, Missus."

Thaddeus called out, "I want vegetables, too."

Laughing heartily, Percy answered, "I aim to pile yuse plates tall with fried taters, greens, and apple sauce, even more than yuse Mammy would."

Just as they got comfortable in their chairs, Maggie returned with chunks of apple pie and coffee, “y'all start on these."

Tossing his hat in the chair next to him, Thaddeus released a rakish grin that revealed not only his crooked tooth but his single dimple.

Ruffling his damp hair, Maggie teased, “why y’all is bristling with revolvers the way society ladies sparkle with jewels."

Thaddeus winked at her, shoving a bite of pie in his mouth.

"If ‘n only I were younger or you older, Stallion."

Lafayette's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, do not be feelin’ left out, ‘cause the same goes for you. What else can I get ya?”

“Some milk,” Thaddeus choked out, “and more pie.”

“Let me see to my other patrons, and I will bring it.” She looked questioningly to Lafayette.

“Just _café_ ,” he answered, pointing at Thaddeus. “I do not even try to keep up with ‘em.”

No sooner did Maggie leave than Jack Deavers hobbled over, leaning heavily on his cane. "How many of 'em Jayhawkers ya two planted?"

Chewing a mouthful of pie, Thaddeus peered across at his brother.

Swallowing his coffee; he had just taken a drink of Lafayette said, "How do, _Monsieur_ Deavers."

"Do not be how doin’ me, Lafayette Crowe. Tell me how many."

"Well, I suppose I have to say, I ain't got around to notchin’ _m’_ revolver, so I cannot give you an accurate count."

Thaddeus snorted, taking another bite.

Deavers scowled at Thaddeus, tapping his corncob pipe on the table, "What about ya?"

Answering around his mouthful, Thaddeus answered, "Shoot too fast to keep track."

"Well, y'all ain't much for easin' an old man's sleep."

Picking up his fork, Lafayette said, " _Monsieur_ Deavers, _m’_ Rangers have been patrollin’ most of a month there ain't any Jayhawkers in Cass. You can sleep easy."

"Humph." The old man grunted. "If 'n y'all are in town, who is out there protectin' us?"

Having taken his first bite and seeing Thaddeus preparing to speak, Lafayette shook his head.

Nevertheless, Thaddeus went right ahead, "Gordon and his _garçons_ are--" and Lafayette kicked him under the table.

"Ow!!"

Having forced his pie down, Lafayette jumped in. "The County is being looked to, _Monsieur_ Deavers, ain't any need for you to feel unsettled."

Deavers frowned so profoundly at them, the tips of his mustache touched his chin, and with another grunt, he tottered off, muttering, "our well-being in the hands of mere schoolboys."

Rubbing his shin, Thaddeus whined, "Why’d you go and fuckin' kick _moi_ like that?"

"You _jamais_ tell Unit positions."

Throwing a hand toward Deavers, who was easing back into his chair, Thaddeus squalled, "It is old man Deavers."

"Yeah, well, Father aided Thomas Willer in moving to Harrisonville, and our _famille_ shopped at his Emporium with him since you wore knee britches. _Chiant!_ Now, he crosses the street when he sees us coming. Who someone _was,_ may no longer be who they _are_."

Thaddeus nodded with a grunt, beaming gratefully at the loaded plates being set before him. “ _Merci,_ Mags,” then with a carnivorous smile, he cut a chunk from his steak.

Shaking his head, Lafayette picked up the New York Tribune, reading as he ate.

“Hey,” Thaddeus said, tapping the backside of the Tribune. “This here mean we are treasonous?”

Lafayette peered over the top of the paper. “ _Qu’elle_?”

Thaddeus tapped the news sheet again, reading, “ _First Shots Fired in Treasonous Rebellion_. So, does it?”

Folding the paper, Lafayette laid it aside, holding up his coffee cup to catch Mag’s eye; he matter of factly answered, “Not unless you are raisin’ arms against your State.”

Thaddeus brows bunched, “ _qu’elle_ the fuck does that mean?”

“Mind your language,” Lafayette hissed, smiling a thank you to Maggie for the refill before returning to eating.

“Fine, but _qu’elle_ do you mean, raisin’ arms against your State?”

Stabbing a forkful of fried potatoes, Lafayette popped them into his mouth, taking time to form his thoughts into words. “All right, Taddy, if’n a South Carolinian aligned their loyalty with the Federal Government, and furthermore, raised a Unit to wage war against the people of his State of South Carolina, then that would be treasonous.”

“I ain’t askin’ ‘bout South Carolina. I want to know ‘bout Missouri.” Thaddeus snarled, taking a bite of greens. “Missouri voted to remain part of the United States. So, would all of’n us here raisin’ arms against the United States be treasonous?”

Using the last of his roll to mop up the gravy on his plate, Lafayette popped it in his mouth, unfolding the Charleston paper. “Give _moi_ a moment to find _qu’elle_ I read in here ‘bout Jefferson Davis...”

When Thaddeus’ eyebrow raised, a half-smile caressed Lafayette’s mouth as he scanned the columns of text. “Jefferson Davis. Senator from Mississippi. Once the United States Secretary of War.” Noticing little change in his brother’s expression, Lafayette shook his head. “Anyway, when Mississippi seceded, Jefferson Davis resigned his seat in Senate. He did this because here is qu’elle I was searchin’ for. Clearing his throat, a bit, Lafayette read.

‘ _We tread in the paths of our Fathers by claiming our independence and not in hostility, not to injure any section of the country, not even for pecuniary benefit, but from high and solemn motive of defending the rights we inherited, and which is our duty to transmit unshorn to our children’_

Chewing another hunk of steak, Thaddeus waved his fork at his brother to continue explaining.

“See Davis is advocatin’ the _vox populi_ by officially---”

“ _Vox populi??”_

Lafayette snorted out a sigh, “Davis is advocatin’ the ‘voice of the people’ by officially sayin’ the Union did not do as promised. Thusly, Mississippi and, his self, as their Senator, are leavin’ the Union. Further on, I read that he also declared he did not deem withdrawal to be their best course of action. Although still not an illegal one.”

“All I heard today…how can he say that?” Thaddeus asked, his fork hanging empty as he focused on trying to follow what his brother was saying.

“Because it is not illegal for a State to disband from the Union and Davis wanted to prove that too. So, to do so, he stayed in Washington after he made Mississippi’s declarations of Secession before the Senate. By doing so, he hoped to be charged, even arrested for treason.”

“Why would he want to be arrested?”

“Once arrested, Davis would be able to get this whole secession issue of being treasonous into a court of Law. Then he could use the Articles written by our forefathers to prove his innocence, and thusly, the legality and innocence of the Southern States.”

“Huh!” Thaddeus grunted with interest, scraping up the remains of his second piece of pie, his brow furrowed in consideration.

With a smile, Lafayette dug back into his dinner.

“Did he get arrested?”

“ _Non_ , he finally gave up returnin’ home to Mississippi.”

Dropping by their table, Maggie gathered empty plates, “ya still hungry?”

Thaddeus grinned.

“I got one piece of rhubarb berry pie left; I will bring it to ya.”

Rolling forth a provocative, flirtatious smile, “ _Merci beaucoup, belle Madame.”_

She rolled her eyes, “if’n this place weren’t so busy, I would sit here and let ya speak French at me all night, Taddy.”

When she moved off, Thaddeus took a long drink of milk before saying, “I still do not fully understand.”

Leaning his arms on the table, Lafayette brought his fingertips together. “The _très_ cornerstone of American politics is State sovereignty. It was with free will that the original States joined together, thereby creating the United States. Except, in doing so, each State was not to lose its _own_ Nationality.”

Thaddeus' eyes narrowed, then he pointed his fork at Lafayette, hissing, “you fuckin’ tellin’ me I ain’t fuckin’ ever been an American!?”

Through gritted teeth, Lafayette growled, “Again, watch your language. There are _mesdemoiselles_ in here.”

Wrinkling his nose, Thaddeus filled his mouth with pie.

“You are an American. We all are. But first…” Lafayette motioned to the other tables surrounding them, “we are all Missourians. This is our home. This is where we have bled and gave our all for the advancement of our State.”

Thaddeus grunted, “huh,” leaning back in his chair, “So, we are Missourian Americans.”

A short laugh burst from Lafayette, “Actually, we...” He waved a hand at himself and then Thaddeus, “have _maisons_ and _famille_ in _deux_ nation-States makin’ us Missourian- _Louisianais_ Americans.”

“You doin’ that on purpose?”

“ _Qu’elle_?”

“Tryin’ to confuse _moi_.”

Running a hand through the jagged spray of his bangs, Lafayette patiently replied, “I am not.” Then he took a long drink of his coffee as his brother glared expectantly at him. “All right, each State is a nation. Being a nation, each State stands on equal ground with any Nation in the world.”

Thaddeus nodded.

“Our United States Constitution is governed under the platform that sovereignty resides within the people, within their respective States.”

Thaddeus nodded again.

“A Union,” Lafayette moved their cups and glasses together until they touched, “are items that join together. Therefore, after our War for Independence when the States became a Union. They did so by givin’ up some of their independence to stand close together….to unite, thereby creating our overall Federal Government.”

“Huh, so the reason we got senators and congressmen is so...” Thaddeus grinned, “…they can be _vox populi_ for their State.”

“Ha!” Lafayette exhaled, “you are gettin’ it.”

Scratching his forehead with his middle finger, Thaddeus asked, “So why did the States join together, smart arse?”

Lafayette chuckled, “it was to help maintain the general welfare of all, and to protect one another from outside interference.”

“So, the Federal government is supposed to protect a State, any State in the Union from outside interference?”

Lafayette nodded, “correct.”

“Then why has Kansas, which only became a state this past January, been allowed to attack Missouri?”

“Fine question, _Frère_. Our Federal Constitution says all States are to be treated equally and without preference. Yet, I agree with you, ‘cause even while Kansas was a territory, it consistently got the better end of the stick. The blatant truth is while they were a Territory, the President should have sent militia to defend Missouri just as written in the Constitution. If’n that had been done, _feu de l'enfer_ , years ago, all this border _connerie_ could have been settled in the Federal Supreme Court.”

Rubbing at the side of his neck, Thaddeus' nose wrinkled. “You mean both Presidents Pierce and Buchanan could have ended all this border _connerie_?”

Lafayette forcefully replied, “ _Oui.”_

“Well, _feu de l'enfer_ , that ain’t right at all?”

“ _Non,_ it ain’t. The Kansans and those who allowed them to murder Missourians while pillaging our State, everyone of’em broke the fourth, fifth, and sixth amendments of the Bill of Rights.”

“So, we ain’t treasonous. We all are only defendin’ our State since no one else will.”

Lafayette nodded, a hardness having come to his face and eyes.

Licking his lips, Thaddeus looked off to the side, “but, is it the same for the States that have been seceding?”

“Not really. Missouri is the only _une_ been livin’ with a battlefront for…” Lafayette paused, figuring, “…for seven years.” He shook his head, “Still, the Southern States do have their own difficulties.”

“Like _qu’elle_?”

“As the Industrial Revolution expands, the United States is becoming a more merged State. Which is exactly _qu’elle_ some folks want, a single State…a single Union, so they are makin’ it sound like that is _qu’elle_ the Law says. Yet, there is not a single word in the Constitution which sustains them. It is circumstance replacing the Law, and the States which disagree with this have decided to leave.”

“I still do not understand what they gain by leavin’?”

“They wish to maintain their inalienable rights of life, freedom, and happiness. Or, as Thomas Jefferson, our second President, preserved in writin’; _whenever a government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to abolish or alter it._ That is precisely what is occurring, much to the distress of the North.”

“Why should they care if’n the Southern States leave?”

“If’n you ask a Southerner, it is because the North wishes to keep them under their heel by usin’ strangulation tariffs to make profits from their labor. But Taddy, that is a whole another discussion, and I would much rather get drunk over at the Dipper. _Qu’elle_ do you say?”

Much later, staggering from the Dipper, after achieving such a level of inebriation, they had to lean against each other to walk, Thaddeus said. “ _M._ Ingrid’s goin’ be fuckin’ upset; we did not stay at her place.”

“We will _visite_ her and Davey in the mornin’, Miller’s Boarding is closer. ‘Sides, ‘tween the whiskey, and the past weeks, I want to drop in a bed without being required to have polite conversation first.”

Having, at last, made it to their rented room, Thaddeus dropped on the bed, stretching with a huge sigh. " _Par Dieu,_ I forgot how fuckin' _bonne_ a bed feels."

In a voice thick from drink, Lafayette said, “Well, I did not, and if’n you do not get back on your side. I am goin’ to re-introduce you to the fuckin’ floor."

"You and who the fuck else?"

" _Pour l'amour de Dieu;_ I do not need anyone else. As your Captain. I will just damn- well order you off the bed."

"You go ahead and try," Thaddeus replied, flinging a leg across the bed and his brother at the same time. "We ain't on patrol, and I ain't got any fuckin’ inclination of fuckin' heedin’ you."

"Off!" Lafayette barked, shoving at his brother, who was all but lying on top of him.

Grinning Thaddeus, snickered, "huh? You say somethin’?"

Rolling out from under him, Lafayette landed on his feet beside the bed, and with a wicked grin, he gave the quilt Thaddeus was sprawled across a solid yank.

There was a loud thud, followed by some colorful cursing from the floor, and Thaddeus grumbled, “ _très_ fuckin’ funny."

Walking about the bed, Lafayette crossed his arms, looking down, “that there, _m’ Petit Frère_ is why I am in charge."

" _Pourquoi_ is that?" Thaddeus asked, feeling of the lump rising on the side of his head.

"Because…” Lafayette’s grin expanded, “I think strategically."

Sitting up, Thaddeus swung his legs, sweeping Lafayette's out from under him, causing him to hit the floor with a crashing bang. In between his loud guffawing, Thaddeus gasped, "How‘d you like that fuckin' strategic thinkin’, _Grand Frère_?"

Lafayette's eyes narrowed, and he jumped Thaddeus.

They grappled across the floor, rolling into furniture, and roundly cursing each other.

When a loud, repeated thump came from below, "You Crowes break that off! People are tryin’ to sleep."

The pair of them froze, then fell apart laughing to bring down the house.

"Boys, I mean it! Do not make me come up there. Go to bed!"

Lafayette clamped a hand over his mouth.

Thaddeus buried his face in his arms, his laughter coming out in muffled snorts. When he finally raised his head, tears were running down his face, "Damnation, Lafe, we have faced down murderin’ Jayhawkers, evaded Federalist lovin’ Missouri Home Guard, and here we are done in, and order to bed by bent back Miller."

Lafayette grinned like a cat with a mouth full of goldfish, "Maybe, I oughta let 'em be Captain, instead."


	16. chapter FOURTEEN

Chapter Fourteen

**Friday, 21 st of June 1861**

Thunder rumbled in the far distance, and when lightning lanced across the sky, the country beyond the squat cabin rolled out as far as the eye could see.

Laying belly down in the damp grass, its sharp scent filled Jackson’s nostrils as he snugged the Colt repeating rifle in position. "You positive about this?"

Squatted beside him, Lafayette, despite hearing his heart beating like a drum inside him, whispered, "with you backing 'em, I am."

"Sure, there is not another way?"

"None I could come up with," Lafayette replied, sucking at his front teeth as he tracked the four horses walking down the slope toward the cabin. "‘Sides, we must be sure, he is who we have been told."

"Bub, I would like you to know this gives me a cold feeling right down my spine."

"Mine, too," Lafayette answered, his eyes staying with the horses.

To appear more boyish, Thaddeus had shaved off his Van Dyke beard, and to finish the transformation borrowed clothes from Jimmy that all but swallowed him whole. "Y’all think he looks harmless."

"Harmless as any boy can," Brody answered, considering how gutsy or straight out foolhardy it was for Lafayette to send his brother to a raider’s doorstep.

Then with a bang, the cabin door flew open, a barrel-chested man, momentarily, filling the square of yellow light, and then he was out in the yard.

Quiet as a breath, Jackson said, "I have him."

" _Une_ wrong move."

"Lafe, I swear, he will be down before hears the report."

Taking a quick look about, the man centered on the boy before him. “What do you want?"

"Evenin’, Sir." Thaddeus said, "Is you Micah Richardson?"

“Why?”

"My Pa, he told me I was to bring 'em to you." Thaddeus motioned to the horses.

"Why is that?"

"He said if 'n you was Micah Richardson, you would know why."

"Boy, do you not it is heedless to come up on a man’s place after dark?"

Thaddeus rolled out a smile filled with boyish charm. "Sir, let me offer my apologies. I got my directions mixed, and it wound up taking me this long to find you."

“Why would your Pa send you on such an errand?”

“He said Micah Richardson would know why, but I think I might still be turned ‘bout and at the wrong place. I apologize.” Thaddeus shifted to turn Cain and the horses he was leading.

“Hold on. You are at the right place. I am Micah Richardson.”

"Oh, good.” Thaddeus released a relieved smile. “Then my Pa wants to know if’n you would be interested in buyin’ these here horses?"

"I might."

"What if 'n..." Thaddeus bit his lip, trying to appear guilty, "... they do not have papers?"

"Matters little to me."

"And, if 'n they might’ve found their way here from Missouri?"

“A gritty, ruthless smile came to Richardson’s face, "Even better."

Laying his heels to Cain, Thaddeus plowed the stallion into the man, sending him spinning.

" _Merede_!" Lafayette leapt to his feet, "that was not part of _m’_ plan. However, it is most certainly is a signal if'n I ever saw one."

Rolling and scurrying across the yard, avoiding Cain’s sharp hooves, Richardson filled the night air with scathing curses on making it to the porch steps; he clawed for his pistol, "You fucking runt, you just bought yourself a cold bed in hell."

Before he cleared leather, Thaddeus’ Remington was out, “Drop it. You dry-gulchin’ fucker." Thaddeus gasped, panting so hard, he could hardly catch his breath.

Mistaking Thaddeus' excitement for fear, Richardson went for his Colt anyway.

In a spray of blood, the long-barreled Navy flew from Richardson's hand, and before the first shot faded, Thaddeus fired again.

The second bullet twisted Richardson, so he teetered on the steps and losing his balance, he landed in a crumpled pile.

"Damn, Taddy." Clyde hooted, coming up from behind the house with JT limping in his wake.

Lafayette, Jackson, Jimmy, Fox, and Brody walked five abreast into the yard with their horses trailing after them. Knowing what was to come would rub against Jackson's ethical standards, Lafayette spun, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder. "Hey, Doc, your part is done, have the others come in and detail out sentry positions."

Jackson's chin fell to his chest.

"Doc _?_ " The question held no anger, but there was something about Lafayette’s tone that whipped Jackson right down to his core.

"If’n he is one of those who murdered your family, he deserves…” Jackson’s words faded.

"I understand _qu’elle_ you are feelin’, probably, more than you. Go on."

Jackson looked up, his eyes glassy. "Thanks, Bub," and with a nod, he returned the way they had come.

Lengthening his stride to catch the others, Lafayette's smile intensified, creating an array of creases in his face. "Masseys check inside, make sure he ain't got company. Brody, Jimmy, search the barn. Fox stay alert."

The Rangers dispersed.

Sitting Cain, Thaddeus roared, "You fuckin’, _malheureux_ cunt!" Rage so filled him, the Remington trembled in his hand. "Trash such as you--"

Lafayette's rich baritone floated across the yard, “Thaddeus Robert.”

His brother turned, a snarl twisting his face.

Walking up, Lafayette placed a hand atop the barrel of the nickel-plated Remington, "Not yet."

“Get him away from me!” Richardson squealed, looking like a treed coon as he gripped his upper arm, where the second bullet had embedded. “Do not know what the hell he is ranting on about."

Retrieving Richardson’s Navy Colt from the dirt, Lafayette said, "Fortunate for us, I do."

"Capt' Crowe."

" _Qu’elle_?"

JT’s droopy eyes drifted to Richardson, "you need to come on in here."

Clyde veered about his cousin, exiting the cabin. "It is empty, and JT's correct."

“Climb on down,” Lafayette told Thaddeus, patting his brother’s leg.

Jamming the Navy in his holster belt, Lafayette climbed the steps but paused, “Hey Taddy. . .keep ‘em alive.” “And Taddy… keep ‘em alive."

"Damnation, I ain’t fuckin’ plannin’ on shooting the fucker again, well, not yet."

The brothers both chuckled, and Richardson gulped, the color draining from his face.

Inside the rough cabin, Lafayette was startled to find it appointed in elegant furnishings.

Near the center of the room, a cut-glass oil lamp burned atop an intricately carved dark walnut table and spread across the table was an assortment of jewelry, including a pair of rosaries.

Recognizing his own, and the second as his Mother’s saphiret and gold rosary, rage spread through him like a crackling flame. Scattering the pile more with a snarl, he pocketed his parents’ distinctive emerald and gold wedding rings, along with both Father and Peter's pocket watches and Gabriel's silver horseshoe watch fob. Hearing a sound, Lafayette spun, drawing and cocking his LeMat.

JT yelped, "Easy Lafayette," throwing up his hands and stumbling back on his twisted leg. "It was all layin’ there when we came in." JT smiled pathetically, shrugging, “and y'all is the only Saint worshipers I ever did know."

Tucking his Mother’s rosary in his pocket, Lafayette stormed from the cabin, flinging his own silver cross and beads into Richardson’s face, “you fuckin’ _fils de pute!_ "

When the familiar beaded chain plopped to the dirt, Thaddeus' eyes bulged.

Lafayette’s first strike bounced Richardson’s head off the bottom step, and before the man’s eyes could focus, Lafayette hit him three more times. As he sagged over on the dirt, Lafayette planted a boot in the man's ample gut.

Air wheezed from Richardson, along with a trail of gibberish.

Dragging him to his knees, Lafayette roared, "Who all rode with you?"

Richardson’s pinched eyes spoke levels of how much he hated Lafayette having the upper hand, even as he spluttered, "Fuck you!"

Lafayette’s reply was a backhand that flipped the man against the steps like storm thrown debris. "You were there. You were in our _maison_!" Lafayette hissed; dropping to his knees, he wrapped his hands about Richardson’s fleshy neck.

Suddenly, it came to Thaddeus and Clyde if they did not slow him down; Lafayette was going to kill the man before he could divulge information. Yet it took both of them to wrestle Lafayette from Richardson.

Wallowing over, Richardson spat out a mouthful of blood and teeth.

Like a dog on a rope, Lafayette shook his captors, " _Chiant,_ I ain't done. Let fuckin’ go of _moi_!"

Richardson turned bitter, mean eyes on Lafayette.

Lunging forward, Lafayette drug Clyde and Thaddeus with him as if they weighed nothing. “Release _moi!”_

“Now, Capt’—”

A roar tore from Lafayette, and spreading his legs, he swung his right arm flinging Thaddeus out in front of him like the flipping lead-line on a runaway horse.

Holding tight, Thaddeus shouted, "Lafayette Henri!"

The loathing scowl that had transfigured Lafayette’s face turned from Richardson to the green eyes he knew so well. He took a breath, followed by another deeper one that he released in a long exhale. Then in a tone holding no friendliness, his black eyes switched to Clyde. "Massey, it would behoove _vous_ to get _vous putain_ hands off _moi_."

Clyde darted back and away.

Looking again to Thaddeus, Lafayette icily said, “ _vous,_ too.”

With a nod, Thaddeus did, except he did not back away.

The bones in Lafayette’s neck popped loudly when he rolled it and his shoulders. Scooping his hat from the ground, where it had fallen, he took another deep breath. Then pushing his bangs back, he set his hat in place, his face calming into a stone mask. "String this _bâtard_ up."

Anxious to see what all the shouting was about, Brody and Jimmy came at a trot from having finished searching the barn. However, on hearing Lafayette’s command, Brody turned back to retrieve a rope.

On seeing the strangle knot Brody had tied, Richardson pleaded, "Hey, now, you do not want to do this. I got money. I will give it all to you."

"You wish to compensate us?" Lafayette asked.

Richardson nodded, like there was not a bone in his neck, "I do. I do."

Thaddeus turned a puzzled look to his brother.

Squatting, before the man Lafayette tilted his head to the side, "to reimburse??"

Richardson nodded, "Yes, yes, for what I took." Terror was rising from him in visible waves, “just do not hang me."

Lafayette scrutinized the damage he had wrought upon Richardson, much like a Judge looks down from his bench, and as he did, a smile that could outshine the sun emerged. Propping his elbows on his knees, Lafayette asked, in a remarkably pleasant tone, “You wish to make reparations for burnin’ our _maison,_ murderin’ our _famille,_ and the absolute destruction of our _innocence_ along with our lives. _Qu’elle_ do you deem that is worth?"

“I…I…” distracted by the sound of horses approaching, Richardson turned his head to see who it might be, and as he did, Brody threw the loop about his neck.

A moan rose from Richardson, his fingers clutching frantically at the rough hemp rope, and as Brody and Jimmy hauled him up, his moan shifted to a gagging squeal.

Standing almost too close to the swaying, kicking man, Lafayette gazed serenely into Richardson's panic-stricken eyes, and only when blood vessels began bursting did he say, "let the _bâtard_ down."

Releasing the rope looped over the porch beam, Jimmy and Brody let Richardson drop to the ground in a semi-conscious heap and taking up a half-filled bucket of water from beside the front door, Clyde upended it in the man's face.

With a convulsive jerk, Micah Richardson reared up, gasping, "Please... for God’s sake, please, no more."

"Bet some of our _famille_ said that" Thaddeus answered, stomping on Richardson’s bullet shattered hand.

A scream spiraled from the man to ring off into the night.

"Y'all fuckin’ _bâtards_ did not show ‘em any mercy, did you?"

Richardson rolled over, retching.

Wrinkling his nose, Thaddeus retreated before the spreading, rancid pool.

Pushing himself backward until his back was up against the base of the porch, panting, Richardson wiped a hand across his lips, interrupting the flow of blood running into his mouth.

Squatting so they were, once more, eye-level, Lafayette’s face broke into a cheeky grin. "I could do this all night, and frankly, I would _amour_ every second."

Richardson’s gaze flowed around to the others spaced protectively about the young man he felt was their leader, knowing not one of them would stop him, either. "What the hell do you want?"

"Names of all who rode with you to Sienna."

"Sienna?"

Retrieving his rosary from the ground, Lafayette flipped it about his fist, punching Richardson, the beads spewed like buckshot with the small crucifix cutting deep into the man’s swollen cheek. Lafayette asked, "Perhaps, you recall Sienna now?"

"The horse farm."

" _Oui._ "

"Well… uh..."

"We have ascertained there were twenty-five of you _fils de putes_ , and we have already sent a number of them to Lucifer.” Lafayette released a grin that set both his dimples into motion. “Therefore, let _moi_ pose you the same query I have asked the others… how painfully would you like to meet your judgment day?"

Brody took up the rope’s slack.

"No," Richardson wailed, gripping of the rope, "Sam Benson, Trent Hayden, Levi Shell, Lester Phelps, and Ed Streeper... that is all I can recall."

"Who led you?"

"There were two of 'em, some Mick lieutenant out of Lawrence… and an arrogant ass Puke went by Birmingham."

Pushing himself to his feet, Lafayette flatly commanded, "String 'em up and tie ‘em off."

"No! You said---."

Lafayette stared emptily at him for a moment, “I changed _m’_ mind.” Walking to find his horse, he passed Rance McGreen waving to him, he ordered. “Torch, this place.”

The storm had rolled on across the prairie, leaving the silvery light of the waxing moon to illuminate the trail back to Missouri. Looking up at the moon, Lafayette struggled with the cold stone in his chest. Clearing his throat, he hoarsely said, “As you must know, it was Lieutenant O’Rourke, whom I fought last summer.”

Licking his lips, Thaddeus glanced back at the Rangers following them, his voice cracking as he said, “Well, I goaded Birmingham when we took the horses to Independence.”

An eerie quiet hung between them, neither needing to speak more as they knew what the other was thinking.

Lafayette’s saddle creaked as he got his feet more under him. “Taddy, once we put all of’em who assaulted Sienna in the ground, we will _jamais_ speak of ‘em again, and Jo is to _jamais_ know of O’Rourke was part of it, _jamais_.”

Thaddeus nodded.

“ _Bonne,_ ” leaning into his stirrups, Lafayette urged Coffee into a flat run, the trail becoming a blur with the Crowe Rangers thundering after him.


	17. Chapter FIFTEEN

Chapter Fifteen

**Friday, 28 th of June 1861**

Standing in the Wall Boarding House’s stuffy dining room with the trapped smells of breakfast lingering about him, Lafayette’s stomach heaved. Knowing he needed to escape, he said, “ _Madame_ Ingrid, I deem I will pass on breakfast, need to speak to some of _m’_ men.”

“Lafayette, would you like me to set some back for you to eat afterward?”

At the thought of eating, Lafayette’s tasted the burn of bile in his throat. Hastening to the front door, he gulped, “Oh, _non, Madame,_ do not do that, I ain’t so sure I will be back afore ridin’ out. _Au Revoir._ ”

“Well, then I will make you up a packet to go.”

“That would kind of you.” His stomach lurched again as he turned the knob of the front door. “I will send a Ranger to pick it up. _Au revoir_ _, Madame._ ” Swinging the door open, he tipped his head to her and swallowing a belch. “ _Au revoir._ ”

Trotting down the steps, he released a blaring belched. Putting a hand to his stomach, he drew in several deep breaths. “ _P_ _our l'amour de Dieu,_ how much did I drink last night?” Then before exiting the shade being thrown into the street by the Boarding House, he tugged his hat low against the mid-morning glare.

Angling across Wall street toward the Towne Square, where he knew his Rangers were gathering, he came upon Gideon Barnett with two men trailing him.

“Hey, there, Capt’.”

Lafayette grunted.

“Got a couple of tenderfoots,” Gideon jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, “who want to be Rangers.”

Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, Lafayette grunted a second time, stepping over the decorative fence surrounding the Square.

A grin spread across Gideon’s face, “ya really tied one on last night, didn’t ya?”

A sour frown was Lafayette’s reply.

“Maybe ya oughta have some of the hair of the dog that bit ya.”

The thought of alcohol made Lafayette’s stomach swirl, with beads of sweat popping out along his upper lip.

“Whoo wee, I would say ya just turned a bit green, there.” Gideon chuckled. “Swear, a drink will do you good.”

“ _Non,”_ Lafayette snarled, thinking, ‘ _qu’elle_ would do _moi_ _bonne_ is crawlin’ back in bed.’

Fox Northrup rose from the courthouse steps he had been lounging on, hollering, “Hey, Grandville, been some time.”

"That it has. Saw your Ma last week; she said to inform ya a decent son would swing by to see his Ma now and again."

Nodding solemnly, the redhead who had strolled over, leaned comfortably against Lafayette, propping himself on his Captain’s shoulder.

Slanting an eye at him, Lafayette considered shaking him off but decided it would take more effort than he felt up to.

Pointing at the bag of bones wearing a sharp, angular face, Fox said, “That there, Capt’, is Grandville Ketchum, and the half-pint in his shadow is Augustus Heckscher.”

Pushing his thick glasses up with a bashful smile, Augustus responded, “Auggie, if you please.”

Not missing a beat, Fox asked, “How is your sister, Tillie doin’?”

“She has decreed, she wishes to marry Royal Ashley,” Augustus responded, his voice bearing the cadence of formal schooling. “Furthermore, Mother has been roundly declaring it as a sensationally terrible proposal. Still, Tillie refuses to back down. Let us say it has been an all-mighty loud lil’ war about my home.”

“That why ya decided, it might ’en be easier to come ridin’ with us?”

“Some. Mainly, I deem our wretched Missouri Home Guard should, most unequivocally, be made to understand it is incorrect, for them, to take what they want, whenever they choose.”

“Well, hell, Auggie, ya come to the right bunch.” Fox beamed, nodding at Gideon, “Ask anyone, they will tell ya, we Crowe Rangers are damn good at remindin’ folks the right of it.” Figuring Lafayette would chime in, Fox looked his way. “Damn, Capt’, ya ain’t lookin’ so good."

Casting him an annoyed glance, Lafayette sighed, "been better, everyone here?"

"They is," Fox answered, waving toward the tied line of horses.

A crease formed between Lafayette’s brows as walked toward his unit as everyone was attired in the over-sized pullover shirt bearing four capacious pockets on the front, designed to hold extra loaded cylinders and ball ammunition. He had seen these war tunics among other Units. Still, he was surprised as he did not know where these had come from. Turning to ask Fox, he noticed he too was wearing a tunic, one which had been elaborately embroidered with flowers and vines.

"It were all Maggie Hildebrand’s idea,” Fox said, answering Lafayette’s unvoiced question. “She says, we oughta be for showin’ pride in who we are."

Lafayette's mouth pulled into a twisted frown.

Fox’s pointed smiled answered him. “She did it as a surprise, had ladies sewing ‘em, from all over the area."

Lafayette could picture Mag’s wrangling the local ladies into this task.

“Hey, Gideon… _Grand frère,_ ” Thaddeus hollered, trotting up, obviously unaffected by last night’s drinking. Smiling, he punched Lafayette in the shoulder. “‘Bout time you drug your backside out of bed.”

Lafayette turned an expression he, usually reserved for those he loathed on his brother, and Thaddeus cackled noisily, punching his brother a second time.

“Tellin’ _vous_ as a warnin’ Taddy, do not touch _moi_ again.”

“Or _qu’elle._ ”

“I will bend _vous_ over _m’_ knee and tan your hide in front of all these _garçons._ ”

Thaddeus only laughed more, “Here, Gid.” He tossed a cloth bundle to Gideon, handing another to Lafayette.

Unfolding the dark, blue fabric, Lafayette shook out the war tunic, noting it matched Thaddeus’ for the embroidered design was running horses, instead of the floral patterns, most often seen, adorning other Guerilla shirts. Running a finger across the fine needlework, he asked, “Who made ours?”

"Mags herself," Thaddeus answered and pulling an oilskin packet from his waistband. “She also got us these.” Flipping the packet open, he withdrew some black crow feathers, handing one to Gideon, Grandville, and Augustus; before plucking Lafayette’s hat from his head.

Lafayette frowned at Thaddeus, but removing his holsters, which he handed to Fox, Lafayette slid the war tunic over his other shirts. When his head popped out, he asked, " _qu’elle_ is with the feathers?"

Fox chimed in,” Units are usin’ all manner of emblems to designate themselves to each other. Mags said, she plain could not think of anything, which would fit all of’n us better than crow feathers."

Buckling his holsters atop the shirt, Lafayette took his hat back. Before putting it on, he paused to study the rainbow hues reflecting from the glossy, black feather Thaddeus had woven into the riata braided horsehair hatband. With a shake of his head and a twisted grin, he put his hat on. “Pride can be dangerous, Taddy, damn dangerous.”

"Sure can, Capt',” Gideon said, spitting a stream of chaw across the grass before smiling brightly. "But I agree with Mags we should show some pride in who we are. And, hellfire, we all look damn fine, even if’n I do say so, myself." Running a finger up the feather he had placed in his hatband, Gideon’s smile slipped, “Gabe, sure would of liked this... pity we did not think of it before."

Feeling the oh too familiar tightness in his chest, Lafayette turned on his brother, “Get ‘em on their horses.” Laying an appraising look on Grandville and Augustus, “Make sure they got mounts that can keep up. Stop my _M._ Ingrid’s she is puttin’ together a packet, then all y’all meet _moi_ at Kent’s. I will get supplies lined out, and then we are hittin’ the trail."

Hitching his thumbs in his vest pockets, Gideon said, “Hell, Capt', I was gonna have a drink or more.”

Lafayette swallowed hard, his nose wrinkling, “get a bottle to go."

Doubt shadowed Thaddeus’ eyes as he tilted his head, saying, “You fuckin’ look like hell, _Frère_. You sure, you do not want to pull out tomorrow?"

Without replying, Lafayette walked to Coffee, standing on three legs with the other horses.

Thaddeus’ nose wrinkled, then with a grunt, he began barking orders that had Rangers leaping to their feet, and looking back, he hollered at Grandville and Augustus just standing there. “You _duex_ goin’ be Rangers or not.”

By the time the supplies were loaded, the sun was straight above as the Crowe Rangers rode down Main Street. Anyone using the street drifted to the side, moving their prancing horses who were stirring up a fair amount of dust.

When they passed Maggie’s Kitchen, she was standing tall and proud before it, “None of y’all get any holes in those shirts, ya hear me.”

Touching a finger to the brim of his hat, Lafayette nodded, forcing forth his flirtatious smile, even as Thaddeus and the others tipped their hats, throwing her kisses while calling words of thanks.

Rising from the bench he habitually used, old man Deaver’s wrinkled face turned their direction. Then taking up his cane, he hobbled to the edge of the street, raising a hand to salute the young Rangers. To those around him, he groused, “Y'all should be cheerin’ our Cass County boys."

A patter of applause and hurrahs rose up, but not from all. For some stood stiffly, glaring in wide-eyed silence. As Orville Riggs, Michel Rose, and Doniphan Phillips brought up the rear, Mr. Deaver stepped into the street, hollering, "Go get 'em boys! You up and give those dad-blasted Yankees a taste of Missouri hospitality!"


	18. Chapter SIXTEEN

Chapter Sixteen 

**Tuesday, 2 nd of July 1861**

“Look sharp.”

Rangers came surging from bedrolls like cattle leaping to stampede, each seeking the darkness for the warned threat.

Above the bowl canyon, Doniphan Phillips slapped his thigh, and hearing his cackling, snorting laughter; Thaddeus shouted, “ _Qu’elle_ the fuck is wrong with you, Donnie?”

Wiping tears from his cheeks, Doniphan popped Fox, who was on sentry duty with him, on the back. “Hey, oh, but ye all look like ye was doused with cold water.”

“ _Ferme ta gueule,_ Donni, I am goin’ to beat your wisecrackin’ ass to the ground.”

“Yeah? Who ye be for assistin’ ye, Boy?”

Thaddeus puffed up like a rooster, “Who you callin’ a _boy_? You fuckin’ ignorant, bog-hoppin’ Mick?!”

Walking past his brother, Lafayette muttered, “Enough! Or are you simply choosin’ to forget there is Gael in our blood?” Separating himself from the others, Lafayette shouted in a tone that matched his temper, “Doniphan, Fox, for what reason did you wake the camp?”

Being called out, Fox, who had begun laughing at Thaddeus’ irritation, swallowed hard, “we kind of thought y’all oughta come up and see the comet.”

“Is that all?” Michael Rose grumbled, turning to search out his blanket in the dark.

Hiram Haller shook his head, “we have been seein’ the blamed thing on sentry for the past month.” Dropping back on his bedroll, he growled angrily, “I would say we done seen it.”

Those nearest him grumbled agreements.

Except for Moses Judd, who had an unending curiosity for anything relating to science. He pulled on his boots, shouting to the pair of sentries on the rim, “How is it different?”

“Be for draggin’ ye’self up here and seein’ for ye’self,” Doniphan answered.

Once more, curses issued from the night, as most of the Rangers, having put their bedrolls back together, had begun climbing back into them. Noticing Lafayette pulling on his boots, Jackson asked, “you goin’ up?”

“Why not? Those _bouffons_ would not have woken us if’n it was the same.” Lafayette replied, strapping on his shoulder holsters.

Sitting up, Thaddeus grumbled, “Well, fuck.”

“Ain’t tellin’ you to come along, Taddy.”

“Yeah, but you have a tendency of steppin’ into fuckin’ trouble when you are off on your damn own.”

“Only by your opinion.”

Moses came rushing over, “I am ready when you are, Capt’.”

Within minutes, a strung-out chorus of complaints filled the night as the Rangers rode bareback up a thin trail that snaked from the valley floor to the high surrounding walls. Above them, a fingernail crescent moon edged toward the western horizon, but the trees and trail became bathed in white light as they neared the top.

Emerging first, Thaddeus allowed Cain amble to a halt.

“Be moving that beast,” Jimmy called, his chestnut mare gigging and snorting on the narrow path behind Cain.

Mumbling in a stunned voice, “ _très désolé,_ ” Thaddeus kneed his stallion, his eyes hooked on the far horizon where the comet’s tail stretched like an eruption to the top of the sky.

Jackson reined in near Fox, who was staring wide-eyed at the strange phenomenon filling the sky, “Something else, ain’t it, Doc?”

“Positive, I shall never see anything to match it,” Jackson replied, admiring the stunning view. “Thanks for waking me.”

“But we woke all y’all.”

“Yes, you did.” Jackson replied, amusement changing his voice, “and, I am only offering gratitude for me, as others may not feel the same.”

Except this was not true because all along the ridgeline, the riders halted to stare in perfect silent wonder at the bluish, shimmering comet tail whose brilliance subdued stars near its path.

“I recollect Pa wakin’ us winter of ‘42 to see that one,” Common Smith said, his voice sounding loud among so much silence. “It was only a spark compared to this.”

Nathanial Davis’ worrying of his lower lip, studied Common a moment, then called to Moses, the comet being reflected in his thick glasses. “Moses, you think it is like this all the way across the country?”

Moses' face was filled with excitement when he turned to answer Nathaniel. “The earth’s curvature will alter what folks are seein’ on the western seaboard.”

One by one, the Rangers rode back into the bowl-shaped canyon, each turning wistful last looks to the comet, which was fading before dawn’s arrival.

When the sun popped over the ridge, it brought with it a morning that held every indication it was going to be a hot day, and the Rangers, as a lot, were heavy-eyed from their late-night excursion.

Walking stiffly to a campfire where Brody sat chatting with Common Smith, Lafayette took a seat rubbing at his sore knee.

Filling a cup, Common held it to him, “ya look like ya could use this.”

“ _Merci_ _beaucoup;_ did not sleep much after I laid back down.”

Brody appraised him, “Ya mind runnin’ on again?”

Nodding absently, Lafayette sipped the steaming brew.

Common asked, “what kept ya up?”

Shaking his head, Lafayette took another drink, releasing a disgusted snort. “This is _vraiment_ terrible. Who made it?”

“I did,” Brody responded with a wink.

“Need to keep you from the beans,” Lafayette quirked, releasing a small smile, “there are laws against poisoning folks.”

“ _Très desole,_ it ain’t up to ya standards, Capt’.”

Lafayette flashed Brody a tight grin, his eyes never leaving the campfire he was intently watching.

Taking in Lafayette’s stiff face, Brody nudged Common with his boot, motioning with his head for him to leave.

Climbing to his feet, Common said, “think I will go see if’n them biscuits Grandville was makin’ are done.”

When they were alone, Brody held the pot out, “what had ya awake?”

Extending his cup for refilling, Lafayette softly answered, “that night at Richardson’s.”

“That was a good night.”

Lafayette’s eyes widened, and he took a gulp of his coffee.

“Afore that night, they all…” Brody gestured to the others in the camp with his coffee cup, “kept one-eye hitched Taddy’s direction waitin’ for when he would blow off the handle. So, when ya came unhinged, they all got downright serious ‘bout which Crowe they should be watchin’.”

Lafayette ran a hand back through his hair, his long bangs falling haphazard, shielding his eyes. “Our Father had a quick, even brutal temper.”

Brody bitterly replied, “I know he did.”

“Always tried to avoid lettin’ that same temper rule _moi._ ”

“Yeah, and ya learned to not use it on someone close to ya, that I do know.”

Through the jagged spray of black bangs, Lafayette peered at Brody, who smiled reassuringly at him. “Is that what ya been rollin’ through ya head?”

Lafayette canted an eye at the glowing sun, “Remember that fight I had at Barnett’s Picnic?”

“Gabe, me, and his unit was down along somewheres in Bates, but we heard tell of it…” Brody chuckled, “heard plenty tell of it.”

“Taddy told _moi_ how Gabe worked gents over for callin’ _moi_ a coward.”

“That he did, and I jumped in a time or two,” Brody responded, stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles. “But Lafe those who passed that type of talk were fools searchin’ for a beatin’” He lightly shook his head, “and Gabe, well, he most assuredly did not let ‘em go away wantin’.”

Lafayette took a drink, but it took an effort for his tight throat to swallow it down.

“But, that ain’t what ya gettin’ at, is it?”

“ _Non,_ ” Lafayette answered, finally turning his eyes to Brody, who was surprised at the strain he saw there. “That fight I had with Lt. O’Rourke, well, he had stopped off at the picnic on the way to his station in Lawrence.”

Brody exhaled raggedly, rubbing a hand across his mouth before saying, “then Taddy made a mockery of Birmingham up in Independence.”

Lafayette’s head tilted a bit. “You already knew…” He licked his lips, “…why, did you say nothing?”

“Saw no purpose too.”

“If’n you knew all that happened was our fault…” Lafayette looked over his shoulder, his eyes picking out the Rangers who had once called his elder brother, Gabriel, Captain, “….why are y’all here?”

Setting his cup down, Brody bent his knees, leaning his elbows across them. “Lafayette.” He coughed, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded raw, “Lafe…how long have ya known me?”

Lafayette’s dark eyes narrowed to slits, then opened wide with astonishment. “I cannot recall a time, you were not right alongside, Gabe.”

“It has been twenty years, Lafe…” He nodded, “twenty years Gabe and I were brothers, and when those _fils de pute_ killed _my_ brother…” Brody rubbed again of his mouth, inhaling hard. “I wanted to go after ‘em myself, but I knew ya and Taddy would be doin’ the same, and I also knew Gabe would want me right there with y’all.” He glanced to the other campfires, “and they all felt the same.”

A frown showed in Lafayette’s dark eyes, “So, you came along to watch over _moi_ and Taddy?”

“At first, yes.” Brody leaned closer to him, “but ya do not need watchin’ over, ya are a fine strategist, one hell of a fighter, and ya fret over those who follow ya.”

Lafayette squeezed his eyes shut, “….it was all _m’_ fault, I drew attention to Sienna, Taddy would have never been in Independence to meet Birmingham if’n, not for _moi._ ”

Brody reached out, snagging hold of Lafayette’s shoulder, “stop!”

Lafayette peered over.

“Gabe and I discussed what ya used to preach ‘bout the border problems should all be overseen by the law. But there was no law. None for our side and that… THAT is why Sienna was attacked. Not ‘cause Josie danced with the wrong man, or ya knocked a _bâtard_ down for insulting ya. It ain’t cause Taddy can be a smart arse or that Sienna was known for its livestock and wealth. It also ain’t ‘cause Gabe and I rode to protect our neighbors. There ain’t any reason, ya can produce, other than there was no law to protect any of us. Stop frettin’ over this…just stop” Brody smiled tightly, “can you do that, _Frère Cadet?_ ”

Lafayette stared fixedly at him for a long breath and then nodded.

Catching a glimpse of an approaching shadow, Brody leaned back, saying, “What ya need to be focusing on is how we are goin’ to find those _bâtard_ s O’Rourke and Birmingham.”

Stepping over a log and taking a seat, Rance McGreen asked, “ya speakin’ of that lil’ peacock Birmingham of the Home Guard?”

Both Lafayette and Brody nodded in unison.

“I heard ‘em affirmed as one of ‘em on ya list. So, I been doin’ some askin’ around, and I happen to know where that crew rides.”

Brody yelped, “Ya do!?”

Sitting straighter, Lafayette threw the grinds out of his cup, “Well, hell, McGreen, I feel like paying ‘em a _visite_.”

Rance nodded, “but I am curious ‘bout something Capt’.”

Lafayette arched his eyebrows at the older man.

Rubbing at his bristly chin, the whiskers making a raspy noise against his calloused hands, Rance asked. “What are ya plans, once ya have crossed the last name off ya list?”

Running a hand through his hair again, Lafayette left his bangs standing out like bird feathers in a high wind. “Well, the papers keep declarin’ this war will be over in a year.” Then he smirked, “but, we Americans are too stubborn to give up that soon, so I figure Taddy and I will continue fightin’ for our neighbors ‘till this is all over. Why?”

“Good to hear. Some of us been fearin’ ya would pull out for Louisiana once ya plant ya last man.”

Standing, Lafayette turned on his heel, sizing up the collection of men who had chosen to follow him. “ _Une_ day, Taddy and I will go South, but that day is not anywhere I can see as of yet.”

Rance’s tone was casual, but it conveyed warm confidence as he said, “damn fine, ya are one to ride the trail with, hate to lose ya, as we all are proud to call ya our Captain.”

Lafayette rubbed at one eye, passing the man a half-grin, “ _merci,_ now go stir them into their saddles, and we will go a-huntin' peacock.”

The grass along the road stood tall and straight. From the trees bordering the road, there was not a whisper of movement. Sweat trickled from the faces of the listless Rangers as they rode slow, so their horses would stir up as little dust as possible to further coat their itchy skin.

When they rounded a curve in the road, the trading post’s roof shone white in the hot sunlight. Seeing it, Lafayette nodded to Thaddeus, who, in turn, held his fist high, waving it side to side.

The Rangers came to a standstill, all eyes to the front.

Softly, Lafayette called “Teague, Jeremiah, Buster,” before flinging an open hand at the others, who bled off into the woods in twos and fours.

The fair, freckled-faced Buster McKenzie, Jeremiah Burke, his face was still round with baby fat, and Teague Hays, whose thin wren chest spoke volumes for how close he was to boyhood, urged their horses forward.

Thaddeus, having stayed by his brother, grinned devilishly at the boys as Lafayette said, “Y’all are goin’ ride down there lookin’ as fresh and innocent as the babes you are.”

Teague’s eyes narrowed, and with his creaking, squeaky voice, he bitingly asked, “What are you are wantin’ us to do, other than look like babes lost in the wood?”

Brody chuckled at his reference even as Lafayette told them. “Well, we ain’t handin’ you over for a profit, but y’all are goin’ to join the Home Guard.”

“Bullshit, if’n we are,” Jeremiah snapped, his steel-gray eyes hardening.

“You ain’t _vraiment_ joining ‘em. Want y’all to ride in speakin’ of your hatred of Rangers, slave owners, Southerners, whatever else you think will get Sullivan to point you toward Birmingham’s Unit.”

Jeremiah asked, “Capt’ can ya not just interrogate ‘em like the others.”

“Sometimes, honey works better.”

Edging Cain closer to the others, Thaddeus said, “I will go with ‘em.”

“ _Non, Frère._ ”

“I am cleaned shaved.” Thaddeus rubbed his smooth chin. “I am quite capable of playin’ fuckin’ innocent.”

“Much as I _amour_ you, I do not recall the last time I thought of you as innocent.” Even though the words came out playful, there was a pinching about Lafayette’s eyes that suggested he was thinking more.

“I can do it, and I will be there to keep the _garçons_ safe if’n it all twists on ‘em.” Thaddeus responded, jabbing a thumb at their three youngest Rangers.

Seeing Lafayette’s rising indecision, Brody hissed, “Hey, green eyes.”

Thaddeus’ shot round with a look cold enough to freeze water.

“Ya simply ain’t goin, Taddy, ya is too unmistakable.”

“When the fuck, he get the say so, Lafe?”

“When he is correct and you ain’t goin’, _Frère._ ”


	19. Chapter SEVENTEEN

Chapter Seventeen

Buster Davis shoved sweat matted hair from his face with a rolling laugh, “you were right, Capt’ that Sullivan believed every untruth we spoke.”

With a sneer that revealed his two missing teeth, Valentine said, “Why? Did y’all babies tell ‘em you had run away from home?”

To Teague Hays’ credit, he coolly assessed Valentine then turned from him as if he had said nothing at all. “We informed Sullivan how a group of bushwhackers led by some French-speaking--” he choked back his words.

Pulling Coffee in, to pace Teague’s blue-eyed sorrel, Lafayette arched an eyebrow at the boy, “some French speakin’…?”

Teague fiddled with his reins, muttering, “Fucker.”

Laughing warmly, Lafayette said, “ _Par Dieu,_ Teague, you must cease listenin’ to Taddy. _Mon_ _frère_ is goin’ plain out ruin your vocabulary, and I did _promesse_ your _mère_ , I would watch over you.”

Twisting in his saddle Thaddeus’ grinned like a possum sucking eggs at the pink ruddiness spreading across Teague’s face.

Good-naturedly shaking his head, Lafayette asked, “ _qu’elle_ else did you tell ‘em?”

“Said how y’all were none too friendly about questionin’ my Father,” Teague said, still looking ashamed.

“Me, I told ‘em, straight out, I wanted to join the Missouri Home Guard,” Jeremiah got out as he was riding and squirming back into his floral, embroidered Ranger shirt at the same time. “Said I told ‘em I wanted to shoot me some bushwhackers ‘cause that would damn well put a stop to ‘em raidin’ our farm for forage and whatever else they fancied.”

Buster nodded, “I made up a story ‘bout slavers stormin’ into our church meeting, regulating to all of’n us what would happen if any of us was caught assistin’ the Federals.”

Releasing a laugh that recalled the happy moments on a good day, Orville said, “Well, it sure does sound like a batch of whoppin’ fine tales, boys.”

“Difficulty is…” Lafayette sighed mournfully, “those are not whoppers; it is precisely _qu’elle_ is bein’ done by both sides.”

A billow of smoke spilled from Jackson and tapping the ash from his cigar; he said, “takes truth to make a lie sound true.”

“Well, he believed us, ‘cause Sullivan said, Birmingham and his men were through, _only,_ yesterday checkin’ for recruits.” Jeremiah looked around at those riding nearest. “Who’d thunk that little place was a recruitin’ station?”

“I have had thoughts it might be,” replied Rance.

“Anyone wants to explain why we did not burn the fuckin’ place to the fuckin’ ground.”

“Well, _Petit Frère_ ,” Lafayette replied, “‘cause, we might use it, again, for intelligence.”

**_“_ Fuckin’ _connerie_.”**

“Think _qu’elle_ you want,” Lafayette replied, urging on past Cain and Ebby, taking the lead from Thaddeus and Fox, calling, “Ranger’s ride.”

The thirty horses flowed along Morristown Road at a ground eating lope. The breeze billowing their sweat stiff clothing, cooling the riders. Here and again, there was a sharp, angry snort from one of the racers bred at Sienna wishing to break stride, to outrace their trail mates.

High noon sun beat down on them as they entered Marsh Gillman’s drive; as the Rangers drew their firearms, the leader’s released their horses to rush the farmyard.

A lean, muscled youth with shocking blue eyes and a stout, wide-shouldered man stood in the center of the drive, unflustered by their appearance even as Coffee skidded to a halt flinging clods of dirt.

Using a tone Lafayette had discovered made men sit back and listen, he demanded, “ _Monsieur_ Gillman are any others currently present?”

Gillman’s bushy brows knitted in a frown, “my wife and three daughters are in the house.”

But they were not, for the ladies were clinging to each other on the top step leading to the family’s covered front porch.

Nodding to Jackson, Lafayette said, “Take another and deal with ‘em.”

Color flooded Gillman’s son’s face, and charging Coffee; he bellowed, “You best be for leaving ‘em be, Crowe!” However, before he made more than a few steps, half a dozen revolvers turned his way.

“Hold!” Lafayette barked, and dismounting, he walked to Gillman’s son. Even though the boy was several years Lafayette’s junior, he knew him from various County gatherings. “Phillip, we have not come to harass your _famille_.”

“Then what are you doin’?!” Phillip spat into Lafayette’s face, flinging an arm to the Rangers spread across his yard.

“Ascertaining the status in quo,” Lafayette replied, turning from the boy to speak to the father. “Should I _considère_ you, a man who comprehends speakin’ out of both sides of his mouth often gets it permanently shut for him?”

Gillman’s face tightened.

“I shall take that as a yes and shall only ask you this once…which side are y’all aligned with?”

Gillman lifted his chin the light-catching his age faded blue eyes. “By the looks of y’all, if’n I tell you the South, we are safe for now. Later if’n I tell others the North, we are safe for then. Does not matter as either way. Either of y’all will thieve what you wish from my property.”

Lafayette bowed his head, and when he raised his face, he let the indifferent mask he wore as Captain Crowe fall away. “Put your arms down, _M._ Gillman, you too, Phillip. I _vœu_ we shall take naught other than water from your well. Yet, I have uncovered you often have _visiteurs_ from Kansas.”

“Livin’ on Morristown Road, we see all sorts of visitors.”

Lafayette’s gaze drifted across the farm to the Road beyond, and with a soft grunt, his attention returned to Gillman. “Your answer does unveil how foolish _m’_ query is, for from your standpoint there is _non_ correct answer. Is there? So, it is up to _moi_ to decide if’n I am to trust you.”

Marsh Gillman leaned back in his heels, giving Lafayette a once over, before speaking. “Never could keep Antonio’s sons straight, but you must be the one he calls Lafayette, as he so often boasts you are the keenest in his herd.”

A muscle in Lafayette’s cheek twitched, “ _boasted_ … _m’_ Father is _non_ more.”

“I did not know, you have my sympathy.” Gillman’s eyes went to his own family, where Jackson sat cordially chatting with the ladies, along with a young man Gillman thought might be one of Preacher Mitchell Davis’ sons.

Lafayette followed Gillman’s gaze, “as I said, no harm.” Holding up a hand, he flung the fingers wide, and the Rangers scattered, finding themselves hiding spots to await their prey.

The father and son exchanged a look, and Marsh Gillman stepped closer, his eyes pouring over Lafayette’s sharp, angled features. “Can you not solve this without violence?”

One corner of Lafayette's mouth flinched, “It is the only way.”

“It is not what the good book says.”

“It is not, and though _m’_ soul might be damned, I cannot await _Dieu’s_ slow _vengeance_. I have decided to trust you, _M._ Gillman. Take your _famille_ inside and stay behind cover ‘till this is done.”

“There must be another way.”

“ _Non,_ ” Lafayette replied, brandishing a smile that made him appear boyish. “Now, leave off pickin’ at _moi_ like a sore tooth and see to your _famille_ , I do not wish a drop of their blood on _m’_ hands.”

Latching hold of his son’s arm, Gillman said, “you heard ‘em.”

The afternoon crept by with the Rangers wishing clouds would blanket the sun. The heat kept rising, and they emptied their canteens, undid buttons, and repeatedly mopped sweat from their hatbands. Still, they remained silent in their secluded spots as the sun became a golden ball; the late afternoon lethargy made them sluggish. But when the sharp clip-clop of riders reached out to them from the drive, all signs of sleepiness were dashed away.

Standing inside the barn, Thaddeus crept to the door; sweat had run from him until his leather holsters chaffed his skin. Wiping salt from his face, he squinted to better make out the lead rider in the shimmering heat.

Lafayette’s orders were for none to move until the entire Home Guard Unit was in the yard. Yet, when he looked over, it was his own brother who was walking along aimlessly kicking rocks in the drive. The urge to scream at him was in Lafayette’s throat; only, doing so would ruin the trap.

The leader of the Home Guard reined his horse straight for Thaddeus, and by descriptions Lafayette had heard, he knew the man to be Major Samuel Birmingham.

Well used to feeding his men from the land, Birmingham commanded, “my men are hungry, and our horses require feed, you will see to it.”

Suddenly it came to Lafayette, where he stood watching from behind a large, gnarled oak tree, ‘ _qu’elle diable,_ _m’ frère_ is not wearin’ his holsters. _Qu’elle_ is he up to?’

“You deaf, Boy?” asked Birmingham.

“I hear you,” Thaddeus replied, swishing a boot through the dust, his face still tilted down, “awful nice horse you got there.”

Flicking his eyes from Thaddeus to the horse, Lafayette was shocked that he did not right off recognize Vitasse, who their father had sold to his friend, Thomas Knowles up in Independence.

“That she is,” Birmingham answered, swinging down. “So, make damn sure you to take good care of her.”

At this point, Thaddeus and Birmingham were less than an arm’s reach of each other and looking up, Thaddeus snarled, “Oh, I fuckin’ plan to.”

The Officer stepped back, his voice sounding hollow as he gasped, “you!”

The crooked, chipped-tooth smile appeared, and even faster, so did the Remington from behind Thaddeus’ back. Flame burst from the revolver’s barrel, and blood spewed in an arching spray from the back of Birmingham’s neck.

Home Guards scrambled for their firearms, except the hidden Rangers were way ahead of them. Revolvers roared, bullets dropping Home Guard faster than mulberry leaves hitting the ground after a hard frost.

Squatting, Thaddeus heard nothing, not even the bullets whistling near him as he watched the blood seep from the hole he had put in Birmingham’s neck. With a chuckle, he smiled gleefully as it pooled in the sand of the drive.

Birmingham gagged, blood spattering Thaddeus’ face as he leaned in closer. “This is not finished, you fucker. When I arrive in Hell, I aim to hunt you down all over again.”

Major Samuel Birmingham’s eyes widened, and he began bucking like a fish out of water. Until he stiffened, releasing a finally rasping breath.

Rocking back on his heels, Thaddeus studied the lifeless man, knowing this did not change what he had brought to Sienna, knowing it would not bring a single member of his family back. Nevertheless, being so intimately close to watch him die had still filled him with jubilation.

The rippling blasts of their battle expanded out across the countryside, carrying to another passing Unit, and popping up for a shot, Orville happened to be the first to see a regiment of blue coats, coming through Gillman’s cornfield. Cupping his hands about his mouth, Orville Riggs bellowed, “Capt’ Crowe, look to the corn!”

Leaning out, taking a shot, Lafayette’s gut dropped on seeing the sheer number of Federalists approaching. Taking another shot, he released a high-pierced unending whistle, the signal to ‘get in your saddles.’

The single note whistle was picked up by one Ranger after another, passing it along the skirmish line for all to hear.

Pushing his back to the oak tree, Lafayette replaced cylinders and released a lower warbling whistle that would bring Coffee to him. When the big bay arrived, bullets were thunking into the tree, leaves sprinkling down like rain, and taking a nerving gulp of air, Lafayette bolted out, flinging himself in the saddle.

Rising slowly but still lost in his thoughts, Thaddeus stomped on the jaunty, black hat lying beside Birmingham’s corpse. ‘wish I could have made your pain more.” Then a horse bumped him, and he had stumbled to the side, staring about as if all that was happening about him was utterly new.

Fox bellowed, “Tad, come on!”

Noting his friends were in full retreat, Thaddeus leapt on Vitasse without touching a stirrup while whistling long and low for Cain.

Racing after the others across Gillman’s back acreage. Thaddeus thought, ‘did Cain here _moi?_ ’ Spinning the black mare, he saw his stallion racing straight by Coffee and Lafayette with a score of soldiers on their tails. Dropping his reins, Thaddeus pulled a pair of revolvers, taking target practice on the pursuing Home Guard.

Once Lafayette was past, Thaddeus turned the mare after his brother. When Vitasse leaped Gillman’s split rail fence, she plunged with bounding leaps down a steep embankment.

At the bottom, a sparse forest opened, which their pals were disappearing into and hearing other horses grunting on the embankment. The Crowe brothers balled tight to their mounts, encouraging the racers to run as if they were trying to win a track trophy.

Bullets slammed trees, spraying them with bark, then they entered the woods, losing themselves on in the thick, tangled forest.


	20. Chapter EIGHTEEN

Chapter Eighteen

**Monday 15 th of September 1861**

Harrisonville’s town square was the picture of silent desolation, the smell of burn hanging heavy in the hot, dry air.

Gawking at the boarded over windows of the business district, Orville asked, “Damnation, what the hell happened here?”

“Hey, Capt’,” JT called, “why is folks starin’ at us?”

Lafayette did not answer as he was thinking, ‘we should stop and speak with Colonel Younger; he will be able to tell us what has happened.’

When they turned off Wall Street, Emmett Kent called, “Boys!” as he walked out to greet them in the street. Behind him, his mercantile's southern windows were nothing but gaping holes where black flames had broken free, destroying all they touched.

Stepping up to their horses, Kent looked up, his face old and gray beneath the dirt covering it. His hollow eyes drifted from one Ranger to the next, not seeing seasoned fighters but the boys their families had brought to his Mercantile Store since before they could walk. Then his gaze drifted off beyond them.

When he did this, the Rangers turned to see what had distracted him, and it was then they noticed various cloistered groups scrutinizing them darkly.

Kent placed a hand on Brody’s horse. “It is mighty fine to see y’all are all right.” His eyes drifted, once more, to the men watching. “Turn a few of your boys to watch your backs?”

Jackson’s mouth twitched, Thaddeus' eyes widened, Lafayette only held up an open hand, pivoting it back and forth. Straight away, horses swung into a protective circle facing outwards.

Pushing his hat back, Brody asked, “What is it we can do for ya, Mister Kent?”

“Need y’all to know, it ain’t safe here.” The man’s gaze, again, shifted to the men standing in groups.

“Who did this?” Lafayette asked, gesturing to Kent’s destroyed store and the broken, swinging doors of the Younger’s, empty, Livery Stable.

“We been havin’ Federals pass through here regular as water over a mill damn. But this all was done by Charles Jennison and his Redlegs. There ain’t a spot they did not loot and anyone who said nay were shot to doll rags.” Kent took a hard breath, “worst of it is, we were informed the Missouri Home Guard was created to replace y’all State Guard Rangers, and that they would be here to protect us. But, those sons-of-bitches sat on the edge of town, not liftin’ a damn finger.”

The Ranger's expressions twisted, becoming hard to look on, and a chill crept up Kent’s back. However, he understood, as this was their home and behind their anger, but he could also read in them shame for not being here when it all went down.

“You boys cannot be everywhere at once, sides if’n you had been here, they would have killed each and every one of you.” Kent shook his head, “never seen so many Red Legs. They swarmed this place like hornets from a kicked over nest.” He nodded, “there were, way more of’em than all of y’all.”

He paused to study the Younger Livery Stable, “they cleaned Henry out of stock, carriages, tack, just took it all, and he does business regularly with Union Military Adjutants. Just makes no sense at all.” With a shake of his head, he turned back to the Rangers. “Either way, the damn Home Guard has been sayin’ they are fixed on clearin’ Missouri of vermin and copperheads; so decent folks might live without fear.”

The very air became tight, and turning about in his saddle, JT asked, “Mr. Kent, what does that mean?”

Wiping his hands down his soot, stained front, Kent swallowed hard, “I hate to be the one tell y’all this.” Then puffing out his chest, he stoutly raised his voice, allowing those watching to hear. “All y’all come from good, solid families. Men and ladies who built Cass County made it what it is, but ain’t none of you Harrisonville boys got homes no more.”

Jimmy shook his head, “how can that be?”

“That ain’t right. This is our town.” Thaddeus looked wildly about him, “this is our home.”

“It ain’t right, none of it is. You are correct, Taddy, this is our town, our County, and our people…” Exhaling hard, Kent shook his head, “…but we ain’t all on the same side, no mores. The Home Guard has arrested folks, some they have banished.”

“What does that mean?” Charlie Hammel asked. “How can you banish a person?”

“They load a family up in a wagon, drive them to the Mason Dixon line under shotgun guard and dump ‘em out with the warnin’ if’n they come back, they will be executed on sight as enemies to the State.”

The horses shifted, feeling the tension building in their riders.

Jackson asked, “Who all have they done this too?”

Kent looked straight at Jackson, “your family relocated on their own.” His eyes shifted to the others, “Masseys, your gals were banished, and I am sorry to say they shot Harold, killin’ em right where he stood in his y’alls front parlor. Brody, they burnt your Pa’s store and home, there ain’t even an outbuilding standing, and then they were banished. Fox, Charlie, Gid, I am sorry, I just do not know what happened to all your folks. There been rumors and none of ‘em been good. Jimmy, your grandparents, simply up and vanished. Do not know if’n they left by choice or were carted off. Common, Valentine, Donnie y’alls homes have been burned. Hellfire, Nate, they even torched your father’s church.”

Raising his voice, Kent glared at some men who had edged closer. “Everyone was so damn proud to have the Cavaliers and Rangers defending ‘em from Jayhawkers before the War, now those same sons-of-bitches have backstabbed all of’n you. The Feds been encouragin’ folks to prove their loyalty by reportin’ guerrillas.”

Tears dripped from JT’s long, angular face, and edging his horse over, Clyde pulled his cousin into his arms, holding him tight.

“So y’all keep in mind, it is damned sticky who y’all can trust. Seems folks got ‘bout a much loyalty around here as a scorpion.” Kent shook his head solemnly. “Y’all needs to move on, same as told the others Rance brought through earlier.”

Brody growled, “well, hell, we all were supposed to meet here.”

Once more, laying a hand on Brody’s horse, Kent motioned Lafayette and Brody to lean in as he whispered. “Dipper’s open. Stuart’s been left untouched, long as he keeps treatin’ them trashy Northern, boot-kissers like spoiled pups. Since Reed was ridin’ with Rance, I would lay odds they swung by to see his father, and I would also lay odds Stuart can tell you where to find the rest of’n your boys.”

“ _Merci beaucoup, Monsieur_ Kent, _”_ as he said this, Lafayette’s voice caught in his throat, and with a harsh cough, he cleared it. Lifting his reins, as another group of men gathered nearer the corner. “Come on, _Garçons_.”

“Lafayette, hold up.”

Keeping an eye on the newest group, Lafayette said, “ _Merci_ again, _M._ Kent, but I am startin’ to feel a touch more than exposed amongst these coyotes we considered neighbors.”

“Just wait,” Kent grumped; digging under his apron, he extracted a thick fold of paper. “Apologize for the condition I have been carryin’ it around for a while.”

Taking the rumpled, stained paper, Lafayette was startled to see an envelope addressed from Louisiana.

Kent half-heartedly chuckled, “Thieved it from a stack of mail on the counter when the Post Master’s back was turned. Knew that Northerner would toss it in the trash when he saw where it was from and…” He frowned, “…who it was for.”

“ _Merci, M._ Kent, _merci beaucoup.”_

Inhaling deep, Fox boldly called, “Thank you for rememberin’ us, Mister Kent, and thank you for being a good neighbor.”

Jackson’s cloudy blue eyes searched those edging closer, “You talkin’ to us has endangered yourself, Mr. Kent.”

“Hand me down one of ‘em them Colts, Lafayette, and none of you be worryin’ about me. I got my wagon loaded and waitin’. After seein’ Rance, I knew it was only a matter of time for y’all would ride in.” He walked the outside circle of the horses, smiling warmly at their riders. “I have known your families and all of’n you too long to leave any one of you to be caught unawares by these skunks.”

“ _Merci beaucoup, M._ Kent,” Lafayette said, handing the grocer a revolver when he came up by him. “‘Bout how many Rance have with ‘em?”

“I would say ‘bout as many as you have.”

“Than that should be ‘bout all of’n us.”

“Good.” Stepping back, Kent said, “Now get boys, and do not be comin’ back here!”

Spinning their horses, they charged through Harrisonville, not slowing a beat until they pulled up before the Lil’ Dipper.

“Wait here,” Lafayette called, leaping to the ground, and trotting up the front steps. Before he could cross into the saloon, Stuart Chaplain came running out, hollering, “Get the hell out of here, you trash! Get off my property! GET!!”

Lafayette drew back like Chaplin had tossed scalding water on him, and just before his shock switched to anger, Chaplin winked, nodding towards the saloon.

Then with a bellow like a bull, he rushed Lafayette, backing him down the stairs like an unwanted dog. “We do not serve your types! Get the hell out of here!” But, when he was close enough, he hastily whispered, “they are at Sienna.” He shoved Lafayette, “You deaf! Get your ass on your horse! Do not ever come back, and you see that rebel son of mine, tell ‘em I do not want ‘em here neither.”

A good number of the Rangers sat with their mouths hanging open, unsure how to handle this whole situation, as this was one of their pal’s father and a man, they all knew. Then there was movement inside the Dipper, and within the long beam of sunlight, streaming through the front doors, several pairs of blue wool pants and boots could be seen approaching.

In that heartbeat, the Rangers were tearing away from the Dipper, even as sharp cracks shattered Harrisonville’s deathlike shroud of silence. The group left their hometown in a cloud of dust. Racing, as if the devil were on their heels, taking hidden trails they had traveled since they were children, easily outdistancing their Federal pursuers.

When they left the woods at Sienna’s southern fence line, the sun was a blinding orange beacon cutting the horizon in half. At least, they stood where the fence line had been, except all the split rails were gone.

Standing in his stirrups, Lafayette scanned their land, for as far as he could see, there was not a single fence. His face turned to stone, recalling the backbreaking work that went into maintaining Sienna’s miles of fencing, but his griping curses dried up when his eyes returned to his hunched shouldered Rangers. To complain about the fences felt petty next to what they had learned in Harrisonville.

Settling in his saddle, he led them up the winding creek toward the house. As their horses walked along the rippling water, Lafayette thought about the day Eudora had named the waterway. She had declared its clear waters were what made the robins who bathed there sing so merrily, so it should be called Robin Song.

His throat grew tight; from the slant of his eye, he peeked at Thaddeus. ‘Wonder if’n a time will come when recallin’ anything ‘bout _m’ famille_ will not feel like a hot brand bein’ shoved through _moi._ ’

The last light of the day outlined Sienna’s ruins as Lafayette began whistling ‘ _the Rose of Alabama,’_ thinking how out of place the lively tune sounded here, and , they had learned.

“Gettin’ fuckin’ tired of that tune.”

Lafayette paused, “ _moi_ too, but it was the _garçons_ who chose it as our introduction piece.”

“Well, I aim to have ‘em vote on a _nouveau une_.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Lafayette returned to whistling the song, and by the time the barn’s stone foundation box loomed before them, _Camptown Races_ could be heard answering.

Lafayette ceased whistling, and the response fell away just as quick.

Passing beneath the spreading boughs of the drive’s cottonwood, they saw the side yard and half wall that once led to the stables was covered with familiar faces and new ones, as well.

Albert Minters ran up to the Massey’s, who were his second cousins, hollering, “so good to see y’all safe.” As they slid from their saddles, he hugged them, the puffy redness of their eyes letting him know, they too had heard the hard news.

“Albert,” Clyde thumped him on the back, trying to hold himself together. “Will you see to our horses?”

“I will,” Albert replied, taking up the dangling reins.

The Massey cousins were more brothers than cousins as Clyde had lived with JT’s family since his own family had died of cholera when he was only four. Wrapping an arm about, JT, who was again openly weeping, Clyde guided them to a secluded, quiet spot.

Lafayette felt tired right down to his bones and dropping from Coffee; he noticed several of his Rangers were not dismounting. Their faces were flat, eyes empty, and a queasy feeling of culpability spiraled through him. “Y’all goin’ to see to y’alls _maisons_.”

Not one of them answered, only looked off in the directions of their homes.

“Least let your _chevals_ rest a bit,” Lafayette said, waving toward those scattered along the half wall and side yard, “and _découvrezi…_ discover what they know.”

His words taking root, the others dismounted. Turning about, Lafayette slammed straight into his brother, who was staring wide-eyed at the charred remains of their home in the dim purplish light. “You are goin’ work yourself into a knot; you keep thinkin’ on it,” Lafayette glanced to the ruins and clasped Thaddeus’ shoulder, “Look away, _Frère cadet._ ”

Breathing hard, Thaddeus bowed his head.

Pulling the soiled envelope from his pocket, Lafayette poked his brother with it. “ _M._ Kent gave _moi_ this. Jo addressed it to you, must be ‘bout Sienna Stables, while I speak to the others, see to our _chevals_ then find a spot where you can read it.”

Approaching the house, Lafayette caught the sweet scent of the blooming flower garden, ‘in the darkness, it almost feels like home. But it will never be home again. All I can see is _qu’elle_ those _bâtards_ did here.’ A long shuddering sob escaped, leaving him feeling as drained as passed around whiskey bottle. Hearing someone approaching, he smeared a hand across his face, smudging his tears into dirty streaks.

“If’n you do not mind me sayin’, you look pretty damn worn thin.”

Lafayette cranked out a half-smile, “ _Par tous les saints,_ Brody, I loathe to think, I felt this awful, and it would not be noticed.”

“Hell, Lafe, it is about how we are all feelin’.”

“ _Qu’elle_ did you find when you swung by your place?”

Dragging his lower lip through his teeth, Brody replied, “looks right in line with Sienna, and not a sign of what became of my kin.”

“ _Zut!_ Brody, _mes apo---”_

“Stop!” Brody stepped closer, laying his hands atop Lafayette’s shoulders. “We been through this...” He shook his head, “ever since you were squeaky-voiced pain in Gabe and I’s backsides, you always took the blame on yourself. Never could get that, not then, and not now. None of this is your fault.”

“But…” Lafayette swallowed hard, “…those that followed _moi_ were targeted.”

“Damn it, Lafe.” Brody shook him, “This ain’t your fault. We all have our _own_ reasons for ridin’ the border. They chose to follow you ‘cause you have proved yourself to be a man who stands tall and lands on his feet with a plan already forming. But listen real close to me…”

Lafayette nodded.

“I do not want to hear apologies from you. ‘Cause you do not owe me none, and those boys,” Brody pointed to the covered half-wall, “do not want to hear none either.” Brody firmly patted Lafayette on the cheek, “we clear?”

_“Oui_.”

“Your job is to keep standin’ tall and leadin’ us. But _feu de l'enfer_ , you best lead us where we can get us some damn revenge.”

“I will,” Lafayette responded, and squaring his shoulders, he looked to the men illuminated by the rising moon, a short distance off.

“Let us go chat with ‘em together,” Brody said, looping an arm across Lafayette’s shoulders. “Seein’ a lot of new faces.”

“Not exactly,” Lafayette responded, “we do know ‘em all.”

“Yeah, but they ain’t ridden with us afore.” Brody grinned, “damnation, _Frère cadet_ , you are goin’ to have the largest Unit around at this rate.”

A dusky-skinned, well-dressed gentleman separated himself from the others, making straight for Lafayette, he extended his hand.

Taking it in a firm grip, Lafayette said, “Quin, thought you were at West Point?”

“Did not wish to put on the Blue,” Quinton Nicholson answered with a roguish grin. “And I heard you were studyin’ Law at Tulane down in New Orleans.”

“Came home for a visit,” Lafayette replied, releasing Quinton’s hand.

“I have also been informed you are quite the man to follow.”

“So, they say.”

“Napoleon Bonaparte was quoted as sayin’ ‘ _a leader is a dealer in hope.’_ Which is precisely why...” Quinton swung a hand to the newcomers gathered behind him, “… we have come to you.”

“ _Ubi mors ibi spes **[i]**_.”

A forced laugh erupted from Quinton, “really? _Where there is death, there is hope_. Now, Lafayette, theology taught me that phrase meant an ‘interrupted miracle.’”

“Is that not how Napoleon saw himself and how he justified his wars?”

“Suppose he did,” Quinton answered dryly.

“Well, I do not see _mon_ self that way. In plain speak, I am a dealer in death. Is that _qu’elle_

y’all have come here for?”

“My goodness, Lafayette, what were they teachin’ you at Tulane?”

“How to crush _m’_ opponents. _Qu’elle_ were they teachin’ you at West Point?”

“History, strategy, humanities and when driven to the point of conflict, a man fights not to make war but to protect peace, never merely for the act of taking another man’s life.”

Lafayette’s lips drew back in unconscious feralness, “Thinkin’ this may not be the place for you, Quin.”

Quinton Nicholson looked to his feet, the moonlight creating a shadow from his nose to the mustache; he was trying to grow over his full lips. Taking a breath so large his broad shoulders rose and sank, he replied, “This may not be the place for my trainin’, however,” He looked up, his brown eyes hard and firm, “it is _the_ place for me.”

Stepping around him to face the others who had been listening, Lafayette asked, “do y’all feel the same.”

There was a raised hurrah.

“Then, I am pleased to have you. _Bienvenue…._ Welcome to the Crowe Rangers.”

One by one, they came forward, their faces brightening as they shook his hand, and it was then that Lafayette saw the hope Quinton spoke of. He saw it shining from their faces, felt it when they gripped his hand, and deep inside, he shuddered. ‘Their hope _is_ _moi,_ and that I will lead them to their enemy so they may reap vengeance; just as they have heard Taddy and I have been doin’. _’_

[i] Latin: Where there is death there is hope.


	21. Chapter NINETEEN

Chapter Nineteen

**Tuesday 5 th of November 1861**

The past two months had kept the Crowe Rangers on the move, avoiding Home Guard and, in turn, challenging them. Now, with winter coming, they had started drifting south.

The morning had begun with every minuscule detail blanketed in glittering hoarfrost. But the sun had warmed it into a faultless autumn day. They rode easy in their saddles, following the Sac River beneath a canopy of brilliant russets and golds. The leaves fell in drifting waves, touching to the ground with repetitive, soft, gentle taps combined with the river’s gurgle it had lulled the Rangers into a state of ease; that made the shotgun armed man who stepped from a cracked cottonwood all the more surprising.

His sudden appearance caused Lafayette and the other front riders to pull their horses up so sharp they had the animals on their toes just to avoid running him down.

With a boisterous laugh, the man tilted his hat back, revealing chaw stained teeth that made Gideon look like a milk drinker. “Well, howdee,” and though he sounded friendly enough, he was scanning them with a critical eye.

Before Lafayette could speak, Fox shouted, “Rye Manning??"

"I is," the solid, deep-chested man replied, spitting a stream in the dirt. The shotgun, he held on them, not wavering in the least.

Urging Ebby forward, Fox said, “why you old coondog,” and removing his hat, he shook out his flaming, red hair.

"Perdition, Clarence Northrup, that you?"

Jimmy rolled his blue eyes, nudging Zebidiah Collier. "I swear by the Lord above; we cannot be for takin' that Bucko nowheres, and he not be for knowin' someone."

Feeling friendlier, Rye eased down the shotgun’s double-hammers, propping the longarm across his shoulder. "Sun'll be droppin' soon. I am a part of a group near here, all y'all want to share our camp? Our Captain sure enjoys meetin’ other units."

Heads swiveled to Lafayette.

"What you say, Capt'?" Thaddeus asked.

Lafayette only nodded.

Which caused Thaddeus to frown, thinking, ‘he has been too damn quiet all day, whatever he is mullin’; wish to fuck he would let _moi_ in on it."

As Thaddeus watched his brother from the edge of his eye, Fox dismounted to gather directions to the camp since Manning needed to remain where he was on sentry duty. Of course, Fox only got them after Rye had roughed him up a bit and questioned him about so and so.

Thaddeus peered over at Fox as he swung on his horse, “sure, took you long enough.”

“I had to get ‘em twice; afore I got down all the twists and turns.”

Lafayette rolled an eye over to the redhead, and Fox broke into his pointed smiled, "I got it, though. Do not worry, Capt’."

Fox had been speaking true for sure as a hound on a scent; he led them through a crooked, rocky draw into a cloaked valley. However, before their horses had walked more than a few feet, four-guards loomed from the long shadows, also leveling shotguns.

A stout man with a black powder tattoo on his cheek asked in a cutting, unfriendly way, "Y'all make a wrong turn?"

Exhaustion hung thick in Lafayette’s voice when he responded, "Rye Manning sent us."

The three other guards nodded to one another, lowering their weapons.

The one who spoke narrowed his eyes, plodding forward, “Where the hell y'all from?"

Lafayette dryly and bit testily replied, “Missouri.”

Thickly the same man replied, "No, fuckin’ shit! Missourians in Missouri,” he took another step toward Lafayette.

Thaddeus shifted.

With a flick of his wrist, the man’s eyes and shotgun bore were shining hard in

Thaddeus’ direction. “You best hold damn still, Boy. Before they alls needs to be measurin’ out a plot of land for you.”

Thaddeus’ nostrils flared, anger sharpening in his green eyes.

“One of you best be speakin’ to ’em.”

Not withdrawing a speck of his attention from the man, Lafayette said, “ _Pour l'amour de Dieu, Frère_.”

Thaddeus’ nose wrinkled, but he turned his face away, breaking the challenge.

With a leering grin, the man’s eyes slid to Lafayette, “Now, again, where y’all fuckin’ from?”

“Cass…Harrisonville way,” Lafayette answered.

“Ain’t nothing worthwhile been comin’ down from that way, hell, whole areas overflowin’ with Federals.”

Lafayette’s voice dropped an octave, “a point we are well aware of.”

“Hey, Larkin, they said Rye sent ‘em. So, I am a-thinkin’ we ought to leave it up to the Captain.”

“Shut your fuckin’ pan, Trevors.” Larkin Skaggs’ eyes scrolled across the Rangers, “they might be wolves in sheep clothin’.”

Exhaling heavily, Lafayette growled, “ _Jésus a pleuré,_ if’n y’all are this _putain_ friendly, _m’_ Rangers will scout out another location to bed down.”

As they spoke, a tall, lean man wearing federal trousers and a deerskin shirt came ambling up. “Larkin, you plannin’ on, at least, askin’ who these gents are before shootin’ em?”

Lafayette nodded to the stranger, appreciative this one might have an ounce of manners, “Captain Lafayette Crowe.”

“Damnation, Larkin, lower your shotgun.”

Larkin Skaggs turned on the newest man, “Koger, do not be herdin’ me.”

“Shall I get Captain to do it then? He has made abundantly clear how weary he is of your drunken disagreements.” John Koger replied, stepping in so fast, his Bowie’s blade tip was against Larkin’s neck before the man knew it. “Perhaps it’d be better to merely count you as a loss.”

“Lafe?”

“Sit tight, Jackson.”

“Suppose you are right.” Larkin Skaggs replied, “it is up to the Captain if 'n they is welcome." Stepping off the blade, he stormed away into the tall trees.

“I apologize, Crowe Rangers, not all our men run on the foul side like Larkin. I am John Koger, and we would be pleased to have y’all enjoy our fires. Follow me in; you will not be challenged again.”

As the Crowe Rangers rode into camp, a wispy blanket of smoke floated across the valley floor, blending comfortably with the soft hum of chatter around the fires. Their horses snorted at all the activity as they made their way into the impressive campsite. Men stood, coming near to watch them pass, here and there someone calling out a hello to someone they knew.

Abruptly, Koger stepped away, and a handful of well-heeled men moved into the Crowe’s path. Among them was a slender, fair-skinned man who openly scrutinized them with large, soft, blue eyes framed by thick, golden lashes.

Thaddeus snorted softly, thinking to himself, 'damn fine that _petit_ has grown himself some face hair, or he could be mistaken for a _fille_ in _monsieurs_ clothes."

The delicate blonde removed the pipe dangling from his mouth, "Salutations, gentlemen, afore I allow you to retire, it is essential I have a descant with your leader."

All eyes watched the diminutive man, and there was something about him that created an eerie quiet, almost as if everyone were holding their breath.

Not liking any of it, Jimmy barked, "What ye be wantin' our Capt' for?"

Straight away, a man with a face as red as his beard reached for his Colt.

The precise click of Thaddeus’ Remington drained the color from the redhead before his hand even latched tight of his revolver.

From those observing, someone gasped, "Jesus Christ almighty."

During which Jimmy, Fox, Reed, Valentine, Orville, Brody, Teague, and Jackson all extended cocked revolvers.

Kneeing Coffee forward, Lafayette side-passed the gelding in front of his men. Holding tight to his poker face, he pleasantly said, " _Merci beaucoup, garçons,_ now go on and holsters your weapons."

Not one of them moved.

His tone still soft but lower, he drawled, " _garçons_!"

The nine of them sheathed their revolvers.

Passing them a sharp nod, he turned his attention to the strangers fanned out before them. " _Mes excuses, Monsieurs._ We take guardin’ _une_ another rather serious and personal."

"Quite understandable," the fair-haired man replied, his pale eyes slanting warily toward Thaddeus.

Leaning his arms across his saddle horn, Lafayette casually stroked Coffee’s shoulder.

And, since they all nominated _moi_ to boss ‘em ‘bout, I would say, I am the _une_ _vous_ wish discourse with."

"How many make up your Unit?" The man asked, eyeing the snaking trail of horses behind Lafayette’s front riders.

"Currently, there are eighty-one of 'n us."

"Impressive,” the blonde said with a nod, “rather impressive,” for a moment, he thoughtfully studied Lafayette. “Will you be journeying to the Territories or Texas to winter?"

"General Price is offerin’ quarters and feed in Arkansas for Scouts; we have agreed to search up his offer."

The blonde bowed his head, the blue feather in his hat bobbing as he did, "I surmise each of you are proud Southerners, willing to quench this soil with your blood for your beliefs."

Running his tongue across his eyetooth, Lafayette replied, "a person might say as much."

"Then, my good gentlemen, we bid you welcome to our humble camp." Placing his pipe in the corner of his mouth with a smug smile, he intoned. “Myself, I am Captain William Clarke Quantrill, and you, Sir, may address me as Clarke."

A corner of Lafayette's mouth quirked, "Captain Lafayette Henri Begnoir-Crowe." Touching a finger to the brim of his hat, his mouth twisted into a cynical, confident smile. “And _vous, Monsieur_ may address _moi_ as Crowe.”

"This valley holds a wide variety of units, some planning to join Price. Others the Indian Lands or, as I have determined for my men, Texas, as I deem it shall be a grand location to harbor for the winter.” Turning to the man on his left, Quantrill said, "Greg, escort our comrades to the north end of the valley. I do believe McCorkle, Gordon, and a few more Cass boys are camped around there. Should make them feel much more at ease."

Straightening in his saddle, Lafayette asked, "Clarke, _vous_ mind if 'n I call by your fire later for a _parley_?"

Quantrill sucked of his pipe, releasing a puff of smoke. "My camp is under that massive tree over yonder."

Several hours later, Lafayette stepped up to Quantrill’s campfire.

“Why good evening to you, Crowe,” the man said, gesturing to a saddle standing on its shoulders draped with a blanket. “The hour is late; felt you might have changed your mind.”

Taking a seat, Lafayette wearily leaned into the saddle; the constant skirmishes of the past weeks had him feeling bone tired.

When Quantrill passed him a coffee cup, Lafayette caught the scent of whiskey, dosing it and, swallowed most of the brew in one drink, " _Merci beaucoup_ , I needed that."

"Has there been much lively entertainment in Cass?"

"I am positive; you are acquainted with anything I might say, as you appear _une_ who keeps himself well informed."

"You are correct, and yet I appreciate new perspectives."

Lafayette surveyed the valley, dotted with so many banked campfires it appeared as if constellations had fallen from the sky. "Most fighters I have ever seen in _une_ location."

"I hope to gather more," Quantrill answered.

"How many do you suppose _m’_ State has?"

"More than the Union ever surmises." Quantrill took a drink from his cup. "Truth be known, if the cowardly blue bellies could appreciate, how rather strong we are, perchance, they might conclude it would be best to simply clear off our land."

" _Our_ land?" Lafayette replied sarcastically, shaking his head, and removing his cigarillo tin from his vest.

Quantrill took another drink, peering across the rim of his cup. "Would you care to elaborate, Sir?"

Laying a twig to the fire, Lafayette bowed his head over the tiny flame, sucking it into the little cigar, before bitterly drawling, "I hear _vous_ are from Kansas."

"In truth, I am from Iowa."

Lafayette muttered. "Not all that much better, is it?"

Quantrill froze at Lafayette's cynical tone, his tongue flicking across his lips before saying, "Your vernacular leads me to believe you too are not from here, _Monsieur_ Crowe."

Dark brows arched above darker eyes, “Oh, but I am. These _belle_ Missouri hills are a part of _moi_.”

Quantrill tugged at his ear, "Well, then I wish you to comprehend; I have been--."

Holding up a hand, Lafayette shook his head, "I have been run haggard out of _m’_ own County, forced to be on constant watch over _m’_ Rangers, thusly, I feel too soul- _fatigué_ for a debate." Taking off his hat, he laid it upon its crown, clenching the cigarillo between his teeth as he scrubbed his hair. "It has been a hard year."

Reaching into the sweatband of his hat, Lafayette removed a folded square of brown paper. For a time, he puffed on his cigarillo, walking the tight square up-and-down the fingers of his right, for all intents, appearing to have forgotten Quantrill’s presence.

Clearing his throat, Quantrill questioned, "Why is it you wished to speak to me, Mr. Crowe?" As he spoke, he crossed his legs, shifting his right hand to his revolver.

Watching him from behind the curtain of his black bangs, Lafayette was undeceived by Quantrill’s casual move and flicking the butt of his smoke into the fire, he answered. "I am huntin’ some _bâtards_."

Quantrill nodded, his blue eyes remaining watchful.

" _Vous_ being...well, havin’ abided in Kansas for a time. I hoped _vous_ might be able to assist _moi_..." Unfolding the paper, Lafayette passed it to Quantrill, the remaining four names he had gotten from Micah Richardson running through his mind like a nursery rhyme caught in a loop. "Are _vous_ familiar with any of 'em?"

"May I enquire as to why?"

Muscles along Lafayette's jaw tightened, "got _m’ raisons_."

"I presume your reasons will place these names on gravestones," Quantrill replied, dangling the stained paper from his delicate fingers.

Each unused to receiving resistance to their requests, they stared obstinately across the low fire until, in the end, it was Lafayette who nodded assent.

Quantrill stroked his mustache, "Would you enlighten me to your reasons?"

Lacing his fingers together, Lafayette watched the shadows dance on the ground and, swallowing, said. "Despite _qu’elle vous_ enjoy people to believe, _vous_ are not from here, _M._ Quantrill. _Vous_ is not a Missourian. However, I am! _Mon maison_ was right north of Harrisonville, a place once called Sienna." Taking up his cup, he finished it off, shifting the empty, blue enamel, so it reflected the firelight.

"You say, once called," and uncrossing his legs, Quantrill leaned forward, refilling Lafayette’s cup and then his own from the pot on the fire.

From habit, Lafayette said, “ _Merci._ ” Blowing steam from the tin cup, he held gingerly to the handle as the metal heated. "Twenty-five _bâtards_ came to loot Sienna, while there they burnt _m’_ home to the ground and brutally murdered’ _m’ famille_."

Feeling he was beginning to understand the man sitting at his fire, Quantrill drolly said, "The names are a retribution list."

"Ain't we all on some level searchin’ retribution?" Lafayette looked up, a jack-o-lantern grin making a mockery of his handsome face, "Mine happens to be a bit more personal."

Quantrill took a drink, looking again to the list, "I wish to cause Jennison and Montgomery remorse, yet I often need a large body of men to inflict memorable harm. When I send word, will your Rangers ride with us?”

Lafayette’s brows lowered.

“If you will do this, I will assist in crossing names from your list."

Lurching forward, his face hungry, Lafayette snarled, "Which and where? Tell _moi_ _immédiatement_.”

"I do not think so." Quantrill handed him the paper, "you would ride out post-haste, and the trees are very nearly bare. I will not relay information that would cause you to risk your men rashly. Aid Price this winter, answer my call to battle when you hear of it, and I will deliver what you need to attain justice for three of your villains."

A smile stretched out, filling over half of Lafayette's face, and Quantrill found himself more unnerved by the man's palpable joy than his earlier dourness.

“Well played, Clarke, well played.”

Sitting back and dangling a hand across his upraised knee, Quantrill asked. "So, we have a deal, Captain Crowe?"

" _Oui,_ we do."

"I have scouts searching others in need of a winter harbor; thus, we have no intention of leaving until the end of the week. Stay, let yourself and your men rest, before joining Price in Arkansas."


	22. Chapter TWENTY

Chapter Twenty

**Friday 17 th of March 1862**

Tight buds dotted the limbs along trails dusted with sparse patches of green, but the steady, sleeting rain reminded all, despite the faint touches of spring, the land was still wrapped in the grip of winter.

Along the length of a stream, where ice still clung to rocks, men and horses stood with slumped shoulders. A desolate weariness wafting from them, each a faded resemblance of what they had been in the autumn.

Tamping his pipe against a rock, Doniphan Phillips asked, “Who knows where the hell we be?”

Rance McGreen stood further upstream, replacing the cork in this canteen. “I would say were are south of Nevada.”

“We gettin’ supplies there, Capt’?” Jonathon Workman asked.

Leaning into Coffee’s shoulder, Lafayette breathed deep, hearing but not feeling like answering. At the moment, he was trying to convince himself his hunger was not as bad as it was; same as he had been doing with the throbbing pain in his thigh, left behind by an encounter with a minié ball. Straightening, he blanky watched his brother, wiping his revolvers dry. ‘He looks ‘bout as gaunt as when the ague had ‘em.’

“Capt?” Grandville Ketchum, hollered, “Is we?”

Lafayette’s gaze slid from his brother to the Jonathon and Grandville, whose hollow eyes were watching him eagerly from their gaunt faces.

Beneath his low pulled hat, Rance shared a hard look with Brody being years their Captain’s senior; they were secretly worried.

Joining with General Price in Arkansas had been a terrible mistake, and though they had all agreed to go. It was Lafayette who carried the burden of leading them there. Although, none of the Rangers blamed their Captain for what occurred, as they could not have supposed the sheer hell that would be ladeled on them as Military Scouts.

But now as they trailed back into Missouri, Brody and other senior Rangers had been keeping an eye canted on their young Captain, unsure if the toll had broken Lafayette, and if it had, when the moment came, which of them were to take the mantle from him.

Catching their shared look, Valentine McCane, pulled a chewed-up cigar stub from his mouth, his eyes slanting to Lafayette. “Might ’en be high society, ain’t worth followin’ no more. That what y’all be thinkin’?”

Tired as he was, the words struck Brody wrong. “Ya fuckin’ lil’ piss ant,” he snarled, a stiff left felling Valentine, who has half his size. Straddling him, Brody’s fists dropped, over and over again. Smashing Valentine’s lips, blood flowing from his nose, skin splitting over his cheekbone, and the Rangers mutely watched, none cheered, but neither did they move to put an end to the onslaught.

Coming down the bank at a hobbling run, Lafayette grasped Brody’s rounded shoulders. “Cease, Brody, cease!”

Gripping Valentine’s shirt front, Brody shifted his eyes to Lafayette’s wane face and nodded. Yet, before releasing, Valentine he gave his quivering body one more unsettling rattle. “Ya oughta learn to keep your damn mouth shut.”

“Anyone of _vous_ could have put a halt to this afore _moi._ ” Lafayette’s voice was dry with disgust as he whipped about on Rance, Common, and Reed, who were standing closest.

Shaking his thick auburn hair back from his face, Reed Chaplin popped his hat against his leg. “Felt, he deserved it.”

Standing at Reed’s elbow, Common Smith shrugged, “Never cared for Valentine, myself.”

The left dimple was pulsating, Lafayette turned red, a fire coming to his eyes that had been missing for days. “That is _connerie_! We all make _une_ Unit.” He turned, jabbing an accusing finger at his men. “If’n _vous_ plans to continue ridin’ under _m’ nom;_ this will not happen again. If’n you do not like someone, ride the hell out or keep it to _vous_ self. I fathom, we all have had brawls afore, but we ain’t ever stood by and let _une_ of us beat another into the fuckin’ ground. How the fuck is any of us to trust the man next to ‘em in a pinch, if’n _vous_ will not stand by _une_ another. We are a Unit…we must stand by _une_ another.”

Reaching down, Lafayette gripped Valentine, lifting him from the ground.

The man stood, shakily, dabbing at the blood streaming from his swelling eye.

Snorting hard like an angered stallion, Lafayette glared at his Rangers, “y’all make up your minds, _vous_ can follow _moi_ or not.” Shoving past, not even realizing he had followed him, Lafayette limped back down the river to his horse.

The Ranger's eyes strayed to Thaddeus, and with a shake of his head, he walked off for his own horse.

Up in the saddle, Lafayette turned Coffee to face the men staring his way. “If’n _vous_ are a Crowe Ranger get the hell in _vous_ saddle. If’n not, may _vous_ find a Unit _vous_ wish to be part of.” Then sitting tall and firm, Lafayette set Coffee into a long-legged, fast trot.

Swinging aboard Cain, Thaddeus followed his brother, wondering if the others would also. Then he found it curious to discover; he did not care if they did or not.

But they did. Not one strayed, although they did ride in absolute silence.

By late afternoon, the rain stopped. Although, it mattered little as the Rangers were wet clear through, and a straight-line wind had frozen them to their saddles. There had been no opportunity to rest, as any signs of civilization they had passed had been reduced to charred ruin.

The countryside was silent. No chirping of birds braved the cold, just as no livestock stood in fields, overall, the road was cloaked in a solemn dreariness that matched how each man plodding along on their weary horse felt. So, when Teague pointed out chimney smoke stabbing the flat sky above Nevada, a collective sigh of relief escaped the miserable Rangers.

Oddly though, Nevada was just as empty as the countryside had been when they rode in. Not a dog barked, not a sound, except the clopping hooves of their forty horses echoing off the vacant shopfronts. Rounding a corner, they heard the clap of a door closing. Yet, still, no one in sight.

Lee Ball grumbled, “Sure know how to make a person feel wanted.”

“They be not wanting us here. Be my guess.” Jimmy replied.

Riding past a General Mercantile, a light glowed softly in its deepness, the Ranger’s eyed it longingly but kept moving. Except for Pemley Walker, who had only recently joined them. He pulled his horse up, shifting to step done. “Ain’t we gonna stop for vittles?”

Jimmy chuckled, “In good time, Pem. But you best be learnin’ this by heart...” He waved an open hand at those riding closest. With a wry grin, they chorused, “ _chevals_ afore _monsieurs_.”

“Well, that is the dang-gumdest thing I ever heard, animals being put before a man,” Pemley said flatly, looking again toward the Mercantile.

Circling back, Thaddeus came up alongside Pemley, ‘you tell that to your _cheval_ when he is near burstin’ his lungs, givin’ his all, to save your fuckin’, unthankful ass.”

Pemley laid a hand on the sorrel’s shoulder he sat. It was not much of a horse, but it was all he had, and understanding came to him in a rush. Peeking meekly over at Thaddeus, he said, “ _chevals_ afore _monsieurs.”_

Thaddeus grinned back, “You might ‘en make a Ranger, yet Pem.”

As the large barn of Miner Livery loomed closer, a tall thin man, with sharp black eyes opened the office door carrying a Sharps in his right like it was a part of him. “Well, Hello, y’all should know it just be my son and me here.” He loosed a laugh that held an unpleasant suggestion of how far he was willing to go, “of course, him been’ up in the loft with a pair of six-shooters does give us a bit of an advantage.”

“I appreciate your viewpoint, _Monsieur_ ,” Lafayette replied, stiffly climbing from his saddle. “From what we have seen, hospitality ain’t _qu’elle…_ what it should be as of late.”

The liveryman brought his Sharps up as Lafayette limped to Coffee’s head. “Do not think you can distract me with pleasantries.”

“Why would I need to distract you?” Lafayette asked, rubbing Coffee’s cheek. “Now, _Monsieur_ , I am goin’ to open _m’_ jacket to retrieve _m’_ wallet, nothing else.” Saying this, Lafayette opened his smile up, adding warmth to it. “That is unless you do not wish to be distracted by banknotes.”

The moment Lafayette toyed out the word distracted, the Sharps snapped to the man’s shoulder, “I ain’t fuckin’ around; you will be an easy target.”

Not moving, Lafayette could almost taste the tension he felt behind him. “Y’all _garçons_ keep ‘em sheathed _._ ”

The tall man’s eyes, surrounded by laugh lines of happier years, switched to the army backing Lafayette.

“ _Oui_ , you will get _moi_. However, they will cut you to shreds.”

A few of the horses snorted, jouncing their riders; crow-hopping toward the feed, they could smell in the barn.

“ _Mon chevals…_ horses are famished. Yet, I have _non_ intentions of thievin’ it. _Mon_ Crowe Rangers ride to protect not to take.” Having slipped his wallet from the folds of his jacket, Lafayette removed a few notes, “would forty do...?” He cocked an eyebrow.

The Sharps lowered, “you wantin’ corn and hay?”

“Prefer starting ‘em on hay mixed with some sweet alfalfa. We shall take corn with us to give ‘em in small measures, do not want ‘em to go hog sour and colic.”

The liveryman smiled, and it made him look as friendly as old Saint Nick, “you are the first…” he waved toward the men behind Lafayette, “…to offer payment.”

“I was raised; it is correct to reimburse what you use.”

The man’s eyes flitted across the horses, doing a quick count, “for what you are askin’, would fifty be all right?”

“Quite fair,” Lafayette said, his eyes going purposely to the young boy in the loft.

The liveryman nodded, “Hey, Son, come on down here. You got work to do.”

“That he does,” Lafayette stated with a smile. “ _Mon_ Rangers will see to their mounts, _Monsieur_ , you just point the way. However, we would be _beaucoup_ obliged if’n your _garçon_ would have a meal rustled up for us. We sadly are as caved in as our poor _chevals_. He can let ‘em know; we are purchasin’ the hot meal along with road supplies.”

Pulling out another dollar, he added it to the banknotes; “I would, of course, pay for your Son’s assistance. _M’ nom_ is Lafayette Crowe of Sienna, Cass County.” Just saying it brought a lump to his throat, and swallowing hard, he forced by it, rolling out his notorious dimpled smile.

Folding the banknotes into his vest pocket, the liveryman looked beyond Lafayette to the horses standing in the front line. “Why by goodness, y’all raise them pacers and racing stock up there.” Running an appreciative eye over Coffee, Cain, and Nero, he gushed, ‘look at their lines, by goodness, you are from there.” Turning back, he extended his hand, “George Miner, Mr. Crowe proud to meet you.”

“Likewise, _M._ Miner.”

“Just George,” he replied, releasing Lafayette’s hand. “When word came that y’all were taking the road into town.” George bounced the Sharps loosely in his hand, “well, we figured you were more of them filthy Kansans as that lot has been causin’ all of us no end of troubles. But y’all ain’t nothing but good Southern Missouri boys.”

Taking the Sharps to his office, George stuck it inside just as his son appeared. “This here is Davie.” He gestured, taking a Navy Colt from his son, and tucking it in his waistband. “Trot on down to Westchester house, and set them to laying out a meal for these men while they see to their horses. Let ‘em know they are payin’. Then tell Cory to open up his store, so they can buy supplies.”

Later with the horses cared for, supplies purchased, and men sitting around with full bellies for the first time in too long, Lafayette released a long sigh. Pushing his empty plate aside, he opened his journal and, digging a pencil from his pocket, fell to writing.


	23. Chapter TWENTY-ONE

Chapter Twenty-One 

**March 1862, Missouri**

Connor,

_S' il vous plaît_ , have _m' famille,_ read all of this, to allow them a better understanding.

Although we are not a part of the Eastern War Theater, it does battle on just as viciously out here in our western wilds. Through the autumn months, we fought daily skirmishes, always on the move, and with winter approaching, I became uneasy on knowing soon there would be _non_ woodlands to cloak us from our enemy.

Last winter, I disbanded _m'_ Rangers to shelter with their _familles_ and friends. However, this is _non_ longer a choice. Harrisonville and the surrounding Counties are under Federal control. Those who harbored us had their _maisons_ overrun, oftentimes burned before being murdered or banished from the State.

When I came upon other Captains last autumn, our discussions _toujours_ came around to winter quarters. Some debated sheltering best they could in Missouri, others finding harbor in the Indian Territories or Texas. Yet, word passed down the lines that General Van Dorn was gathering Confederate Forces and was in dire need of Mounted Non-commissioned Scouts.

Katherine, your last scathing missive wore heavily on _moi._ I want you to know, I am not a brigand outlaw, and neither are _m'_ Rangers. We fight in defense of our State and its people; our Cause is just, more so because it is our State. But despite all we do, we have still been losing ground.

After discussions with Captains and Confederate Officers, I felt if Confederacy could maintain its holding in Arkansas, it would offer a strong defense line for Missouri. Once I made this decision, I found the notion of sheltering in Texas while others strived to support our State as being inappropriate. I informed _m'_ Rangers they were free to follow other Captains on less dangerous missions, yet _mon_ self, I would answer the plea of the Confederacy for the winter.

Most chose to follow _moi,_ meaning I lead seventy-six men into Sterling Price's camp. The General was overjoyed to see us, purely and simply, overjoyed. After a brief discussion to ascertain our experience level, he put us into operation as his Forward Scouts.

If you are unfamiliar with this term, I could transcribe far too many colorful expletives _m'_ men have dubbed this position. Yet, that would mean jumping ahead on my tale, and I do not wish to do that. In its simplest description, Forward Scouts are a General's eyes and ears. We were to ride before the strength of the Army, gathering useful details while tracking the enemy and relaying reports back to the General's _aides-de-camp_.

Let _moi_ say it was not _qu'elle_ I supposed it would be. In Missouri, _mon_ self and _m'_ Rangers follow an honor code based on causing _non_ harm to those we were protecting. Once with the Confederacy, I discovered much like a plague of locust, they "live off the land."

This is not merely a phrase, but a command used by both Militaries and one I find utterly disgusting. For rather than the Military providing food and forage for their troops, they force citizens to do so with little regard if it leaves a _famille_ destitute and starving. With this and other detestable, inhumane commands, I found _mon_ self poorly designed to follow these new leaders.

Although I was required to. For I was _non_ longer seen as a leader; to them, I was a Captain in jest only, and that I followed these Confederate Officers still disgusts _moi._ Many of the orders I passed to _m'_ Rangers had _non_ regard for a man's life as the Officers saw us merely as playing pieces upon a chessboard. In more than one instance, on relaying we had discovered the enemy line, we were ordered to restrain said line as the Army would be moving in to overtake them.

Now, as I write this, do not forget we were in the Ozark Mountains, a terrain entirely illogical for a cavalry attack. The slick granite boulders, sheer drops, and clumped ridgelines sheered us away from one another, allowing ground troops to pick us off like birds on a ridgepole.

As Scouts, we desperately strived to fulfill the orders. Yet, on too many occasions, Officers altered their assaults, leaving us to discover we had yet again been abandoned. Or worse they would order cannons in to decimate the enemy, entirely forgetting, or perhaps not caring we, their Scouts were still engaged in the frontal assault.

It was during one such assault; I learned when a cannonball hits flesh, there is only an explosive mist of blood. One breath Lyle and Parker were to _m'_ right, the next it was as if they had _jamais_ existed. As winter wore on, I lost far too many Rangers, and once more, when I say Rangers, do not forget I am speaking of _garçons_ I have known all _m'_ days. _Garçons_ who were _frères_ to your friends Katherine, who were sweet on you Josie…I lost them to illness and the grinding wheel of war. Not a _une_ of us escaped Arkansas without scars, but mercifully, some of us were fortunate to escape.

The final blow came with General Van Dorn's plan to push eastward, forcing the Federals across the Missouri river and retaking St. Louis, thusly reclaiming Missouri for the South. I, _non,_ all of us felt our sacrifices might be worthwhile as we would be taking Missouri for the South. But Van Dorn's hubris was worse than that of a spoiled child, he had been given Price and McCulloch's men under his command, and he treated all of us….all of us as toys to be easily replaced.

For three days, Van Dorn marched the Army through a frigid mountain blizzard. The wind howled until we were blind, heavy wet snow clung tight, armoring all it touched in thick ice until none of us could hardly move. At Little Sugar Creek, we Scouts reported Curtis' Federal line was entrenched with the mountains as their rear shield. Van Dorn split the forces, determined he would attack the Federals from both sides.

_M'_ Rangers had traveled with Price's men, all through the night…we moved, no food, no sleep to battle in snow and bleak darkness, in order to get behind the Curtis' men. With the rising rays of dawn, Van Dorn unleashed his cannons on the Federals, who had rested through the night, and they attacked back with a vengeance. In the fading hours of March eighth, the entire Confederate Army fell to shambles. Men retreated on their own accord, running wildly for safety, the Cherokee Light Horse fighters vanished into the woods. After that, it did not take long for we Ranger Captains, _mon_ self included, to do the same with our remaining men.

Katherine, as I said, I fretted over your words regarding being honorable and joining the Confederacy. Yet, those Officers, those dogs, made sure every day we _jamais_ forgot we were not truly a part of their great Army. We, Ranger Captains, were treated as if we to illiterate to understand war. They assigned the Scouts to lousiest positions in camp, and most certainly, we were the runt on the hind tit when it came to feed rations. They treated all of us who answered their plea for aid as if we were their dog's bodies. Until _m'_ death, I will be ashamed I allowed _m'_ Rangers, _m' amies, m' frères_ to be abused in such a manner and will _jamais_ forgive _mon_ self.

Now returning home, we find Federal General Halleck has placed all of Missouri under Martial Law. Part of which is his issuance of a No Quarter Order which reads any person of a guerilla band, for your knowledge, this is _qu'elle_ the Federals now call we Rangers. So, any person deemed a guerilla shall not be captured and treated as a prisoner of war but is to be hung as robbers and murders. No quarter is to be given.

While we were with the Confederacy, back in Missouri, the Federalists labeled we Rangers as craven, butcherous outlaws. Even while Charles Jennison and Jim Lane's 7th Calvary of Jayhawkers were bringing our State to its knees with a systematic bloody attack from Morristown to West Point, not upon military personal but civilians. I want you to understand, they slaughtered those with _maladie_ , wounded, mere _garçons,_ elderly _monsieurs,_ all while throwing _mesdemoiselles_ and their _enfants_ onto winter's mercy by burning their _maisons_. However, only after the vermin had command _mademoiselles_ to cook them meals as they stripped their _maison_ of goods, and at times, even forcing their bestiality upon these poor unguarded creatures. Those terrorizing Missouri are the lowest scrapings of humanities barrel; they have transformed our emerald countryside into a realm of fear. Doors are now shuttered, occupants quaking that those who pass might be from Kansas or worse, their own Missouri Home Guard. And, yet we… WE are declared monsters.

So do not say our _noms_ think we are outlaws, but TR and I will fight here, in our State, for our people. Here were do not fight for victorious valor, politics, or some _chiant_ noble cause…but our people who only wish to survive. And if I am to die in this action, at least, HERE, I feel I will do so with honor.

We are not playing at being soldiers, and we are not shirking the duties of war. If what I have written has not made sunken this point in, perhaps knowing the landholdings of the Johnsons, Masseys, Ericksens, Gambles, Youngers, Northrups and so many others have disappeared like cotton fluff in the wind as have their people. Therefore, when you pray, consider praying for all of Missouri, our home; once a land of joy and splendor, our fields are now sowed with blood, hate, and fear.

Do you see why we fight?

Do you see why we cannot leave?

_Mon_ Rangers, and I shall endeavor to remove this pestilence from our land. As we do, I vow we will not 'live off the land.' I will not allow us to become the baseless creatures; I see around us and throughout TR, and I will continue to hunt those who murdered our _famille._ Although it has become a sideline, simply because I did not clearly see how finding our wanted men amongst so many at war is nigh impossible. Yet, _m'_ objective is _jamais_ far from my mind.

Lastly, when you next consider sending a message, post it to Lone Jack addressed to John Bird or Robert Gray. See, we have tormented our enemy enough to make our _noms_ known. Factually we have done so well as we have been added to the Federalist's _immédiate_ kill lists. I figure it is as it should be, for they are most definitely on ours.

I am positive I have upset y'all. However, I needed you to understand _qu'elle_ why we fight here, and that TR and I will _jamais_ present _excuses_ for our actions. However, we do ask for you to understand, perchance even _pardonner_ us.

_Amour,_ LHBC


	24. Chapter TWENTY-TWO

Chapter Twenty-Two

**Thursday 9 th of May 1862**

Since returning to Missouri, it had been unusual for them to pass more than twelve hours without some sort of skirmish. The constant swing between fighting and running had allowed them little chance to recoup from the rigors of wintering in Arkansas.

Having determined their survival relied on camping amongst other Partisan Rangers, Lafayette had brought them north to the Little Sni River region in hopes of finding a Unit. So far, they had come across none, and as days passed, he became ever more resolute in his search.

All day a relentless south wind had chased them, howling in their ears, daring them to lift their heads so it could steal their breath away. Tired and battered, they hunkered in their saddles, the late afternoon’s dark flickering shadows lulling over half of them to sleep.

“Hey, Maddie, watch yourself,” Orville mumbled to his mare, pulling her head up as she stumbled.

Beside him, David Carlyle rose in his saddle, a spray of blood bursting from his chest. David’s startled, dying eyes turned to Orville as a second bullet drilled between his ribs, knocking him like a sack of feed from his horse.

The bark of gunfire caught up, and the Rangers yelped; realizing they were being bushwhacked, they kicked their sluggish mounts to life.

Winter’s obstinate retreat had nature far behind schedule, so even this late in spring, the Dogwood trees still hung heavy with flowers. As they fled, bullets peppering the branches had white petals swirling like snow behind the fleeing Rangers.

A fine mist flecked Orville’s eyes, and swiping a hand across them; he was surprised to see cherry red streaks. Then his mare stumbled again. ‘Ah, hell, girl,’ he thought, ‘I am sorry.’ Still, he slammed his heels down over and over, forcing his wounded horse to keep pace with her trail mates down the breakneck ridge.

At the bottom, beyond a hedge of underbrush, the front horses reared, screaming as their shocked riders spun them from a curved glacier rock cap, sure to break a running horse’s leg. Also, since the terrors rained on them at Pea Ridge, a few members of the Unit had been proving themselves gun shy, and it was some of these who were currently the front riders. In their haste to escape, they swung their horse’s east without consideration. As they ran, the rest of the Unit followed, and the rock cap stretched out along them, climbing high to become a sheer wall.

Coming down last with those who had laid escape cover fire, Lafayette saw his Rangers heading for a trap. “ _Non!_ Other way, _Garçons._ Turn and attack.”

Yet, they kept on.

Releasing a howl, Lafayette charged Coffee across the face of the hill, continuing to shout orders while shooting up at the gaining Federalists.

His core Rangers, those who had been at his side since the beginning, spun their horses and yipping the banshee, rebel yell they had learned in Arkansas, they charged the hill.

Herding and bellowing at those still running frightened like lemmings, Rance McGreen, at last, got them turned, and as they too climbed the hill, he shouted. “That is it, boys! That is it, ain’t nothing but bullets. Get on up there and show ‘em what you are made of.”

Orville’s horse released a guttural gasp, her legs collapsing. Stepping from her, he shot the mare in the head before spinning on his nearest foe and emptying his revolver in the man’s face. Jerking the dying man down, Orville vaulted into his vacated saddle with a caterwauling scream taking out after two more.

Doniphan Phillips sideswiped a lean weathered man, punching the soldier in the head, setting him reeling, and before he could regain his balance, a tree limb swiped the man from his horse. Chortling, Doniphan turned only to find himself in the same predicament. With a gulp, he reined hard to the left, plowing his big gelding straight into Coffee.

The impact staggered the aging racer, and feeling his legs becoming entangled; Lafayette leapt free, rolling like a whiskey barrel along the hill as his horse went down. Then with a mighty grunt, Coffee was up and running, leaving Lafayette behind.

Gasping to catch his air, Lafayette lurched to his feet to see men coming at him from all sides. Pulling his last revolver, he fired as fast as he could thumb the hammer. Three of his rounds hit marks. Bullets barked a tree peppering him with shrapnel, one tugged at his pant leg, and it felt like a hornet had stung his arm. Gritting his teeth, he thought, ‘I ain’t goin’ make it out of this _une._ ’

“Capt’! Captain Crowe! Lafayette!”

Lafayette’s head swiveled, his name sounding loud to him, even in the tight confines of the battle.

A Federal in a black slouch hat also heard the call and shouted, to his companions, “Fall back! I want that son-of-a-bitch, Crowe.” His saber blade hissed as it slid from its sheath.

Swallowing hard, Lafayette, again, thumbed the hammer of the Colt, and it fired empty.

The man grinned, the fringed epaulets on his shoulders glinting in the light as he

charged. Except instead of running down the Ranger’s Captain, a muscled blue-gray horse rammed his horse, knocking him aside.

With a shout of glee, Lafayette caught Albert Minters’ extended arm, swinging up behind his Ranger.

Shifting his aim, the Officer drove the blade straight into Albert with such force, it also pierced Lafayette.

The pain was so instantaneous and incredible, Lafayette lurched back, nearly falling off. Although the move did disengage him from the blade tip and feeling Albert swaying dangerously, Lafayette wrapped his left arm about him, and yanking a revolver from Albert’s beltline, he fired wildly at their attacker.

By sheer luck, drilling the man’s horse through the eye and the animal dropped with a thud.

Swerving from the crashing horse with a whinnied snort, Albert’s gelding was running with his ears flattened to his skull—the bouncing saber wringing an agonized scream from Albert that seemed to make his dun horse run faster.

Hauling in the reins, Lafayette glanced around, seeing they were, for the moment, on their own, he said. “Albert gives _moi_ your right stirrup.”

Shoving his foot in it, Lafayette leaned out, thinking, ‘hope this goes like I want.’ Slipping his hand through the saber’s brass guard, he said, “get ready to pull yourself off, Albert,” and leaned further out.

The blade came free so fast, Lafayette slipped, slamming to the ground before he even knew he was falling. Spasms of pain raced through him, and clamping a hand to the throbbing gash in his chest; he scrambled up behind Albert listing like a top.

Searching the shadows and shifting smoke that gave the area a haunted dreamlike quality, Lafayette could not make out how the battle was faring and, with a shake of his head, decided, ‘it is high time we escape.’

Taking a deep breath, he repeatedly released the high-pitched retreat whistle.

Rangers were converging on Albert’s dun, the whistle growing in strength as each man picked it up, passing it through the Unit.

Aiming the dun for a far stand of thick woods, Lafayette urged the game horse to race across an open meadow with the Rangers streaming out behind him like a banner. Then they were in the timberline, darting along choked labyrinth trails, clearing deadfall, ducking low hanging limbs, and strangling vines as they fled ever deeper into the overgrown woods.

Their pursuers, unaccustomed to dense Missouri woods, lacked the same skills and were forced to a slower pace. Yet, doggedly they kept on, cursing, and battering their way through.

Shots streamed past the escaping Rangers, here and again catching one, until Orville shouted, “Enough of this!” Turning to Lee, Jimmy, Doniphan, Moses, and Thaddeus, he said, “I, for one, am sick of being the fox.”

The group of them turned, lining out to face the oncoming Federals. “Now, hold your fire until I shout. It will not be until I see the gleam of their brass buttons. Then we are going to cause them some unfortune by shootin’ their damn horses. That will slow their asses down.”

They sat rigidly staring into the face of the approaching enemy, double revolvers extended by each Ranger, and when they felt like they might explode from the tension, Orville shouted, “FIRE!”

In near-perfect unison, the six Rangers fired, releasing over fifty rounds, into their enemy’s horses, their long-barreled revolvers sounding like thunder roared over and over. Beyond their churning cloud of smoke came the horrific screams of dying horses flopping and twisting over their shrieking riders.

In the lull, Jimmy’s eyes slanted to Thaddeus, who looked deathly greenly. When they turned to leave, Jimmy swore he could see droplets dripping from Thaddeus’ jaw, and he gently called, “come on, Taddy.”

Thaddeus nodded hard, reining around, his stallion lunging after the rest of the Rangers.

Not hearing any pursuit, Jimmy thought, ‘seems slaughtering their horses shook ‘em as much as it did Taddy and they be fixing to leave off their chase for today.’ From the corner of his eye, he saw Doniphan’s arms fly up, and the freckle-faced ginger splayed back across his horse’s rump.

Bumping his roan into Doniphan’s gelding, Jimmy grabbed his friend’s jacket pulling him upright. When all in a sudden, it felt like a cow kicked him and looking down, Jimmy saw a dark stain spreading across his thigh, a second before the pain hit. “I be shot.” Throwing a fearful look over his shoulder, he urged his horse. “Come on, George, be for getting us out of here, girl.”

The ground angled upwards, ahead riders cajoled their tired mounts to keep climbing and bringing up the rear, Jimmy’s mare had to veer sharply to avoid tumbling, bouncing rocks. Slipping, she went to her knees. Shifting his weight to stay aboard and help her, Jimmy lost grip of Doniphan.

The habitual jokester bounced from his horse, and before he even rolled to a stop, Jimmy was bellowing, “Hold up! Hold up! Donnie’s down, I lost ‘em.”

From the upper roadbed, Orville peered back to see Jimmy wrestling to get his shot leg over his horse’s rump. “Do not step off, Jimmy. I will fetch, Donnie.”

“I did not mean to lose my hold.” Jimmy grimaced, looking back to Doniphan bent about a tree; he swallowed hard.

“Would not think you would,” Orville replied, passing Jimmy as he hopped sideways down the steep bank. “Get up top, Jimmy. I will get ‘em.” A couple more jumps, and he was squatting by Doniphan. But a frown darkened Orville’s friendly face on turning their pal over.

Rance and Brody came back to the road’s edge, with Brody hollering, “Orville, you need assistance getting ‘em up here safe?”

“Naw, he is already gone,” Orville replied, brushing dirt from Doniphan’s fixed blue eyes before closing them.

Taking off his hat, Rance shoved his bangs back, grumbling “well, shit,” before jamming it back on.

Sitting still, Orville scanned the lower hill, listening.

Rance called “anything?”

“Damn wind in the treetops, cannot hear a thing.”

Brody responded, “Well, get the hell up here.”

Throwing Doniphan across his shoulder, Orville looked back suddenly.

Rance sat taller in his saddle, “hear ‘em coming?”

Orville’s thick mustached dipped low as he frowned, and he lay Doniphan down, squatting to peer again through the trees.

“Orville??”

The big man scowled at his friends, then tuning out everything, but what lay below him, he absorbed it all in, foot by foot he searched the mountain’s face. After several minutes, he stood. “They have abandoned the hunt.” He shouldered his friend’s corpse again, muttering, “damn it, Donnie, you could be a horse’s ass, but I sure liked you.” Bowing his head, he began climbing the hill.


	25. Chapter TWENTY-THREE

Chapter Twenty-Three

Nudging, Jeremiah Burke, who was gawking at Doniphan’s dead body, Rance McGreen said, “pass the word we are in the clear.”

The boy snapped his mouth closed, his steel-gray eyes darting to Brody.

“Ride forward and tell the others while we take care of things back ‘er.”

As Jeremiah spread the word, Rangers fell from their exhausted animals.

Moving up through them, Brody found most bleeding in some form, and whenever he came across one who was not, he detailed them to a picket position. Continuing, in this manner, he came up alongside Albert’s gelding standing, head down, over his rider. Lying entangled with Albert, each equally pale and drenched in blood, was their Captain. Licking his lips, Brody squatted, patting Lafayette’s cheek, “Lafe?”

Dazedly, Lafayette’s eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled, “Albert’s injured _._ ”

Brody only nodded at him, thinking, ‘ain’t all that blood Albert’s.’ Raising his head, he shouted, “Where the hell is Doc?”

“Over that away,” Common answered, jabbing a thumb to a pile of rocks, surrounded by tall, waving seed grass. “He is tryin’ to save Pem’s arm.”

“Get this horse the hell out of the way,” Brody answered, flipping a hand to Albert’s gray dun.

Urging the horse away, Common’s weathered face pinching tight when he glanced at all the blood covering Albert and Lafayette. “Gonna need to pull ’em apart.”

Lafayette roused enough to gasp. “ _Non,_ if’n I let go of Albert’s shoulder, he gushes like a split beer barrel.”

Stripping off his coat and shirts, Brody called, “GID, bring me needles and thread.” Ripping his undershirt apart, he folded it into thick pads that he passed to Common, who slipped them beneath Lafayette’s hands. When he did, Lafayette flopped onto his back, his eyes blinking slowly.

Brody and Common wrestled Albert out of his clothes, Brody telling the man. “You hang in there, Albert, goin’ to get you all patched up. GIDEON!?”

Gideon snapped, “Right here,” from behind Brody’s shoulder, while ripping apart a bachelor’s kit and holding a needle away from the sun, he slid thread through the eye. “Here.”

Grasping tight of the needle, Brody muttered, “Apologies, Albert.” Then lanced the needle through Albert’s skin. The young man set to squirming, trying to free himself of this new misery. “Damn it, Common, hold ‘em tighter.” Yet, even as Brody stitched, his eyes kept flicking to the flies drinking from the widening puddle of Lafayette’s blood. “Thread me another one, Gid, and someone else gets the hell over here!”

Wade Morrow came over at a run.

“Use what is left of my shirt to staunch,” Brody nodded to Lafayette, “his blood flow.”

Waded dropped down by Lafayette, who had managed to rise up to sit flat on his knees. Only now, he was slumped with his head hanging low and blood dripping steadily from his chest. “Hey now, Capt’,” Wade said, laying a hand on Lafayette’s slumped shoulder. “Let me see what's ailin’ you.”

“Got cut is all.”

“Uh-huh,” Wade grunted, gripping Lafayette about the bicep. “How ‘bout I lay you back, so I can see how bad.”

Placing his palms to the ground, Lafayette shook his head. “ _Non,_ I must check on the others.” Saying this, he struggled to get his feet under him.

“Damn it, Lafe, you lay back.” Brody snarled, taking another freshly threaded needle from Gideon, “afore I flatten you.”

With a snort, Lafayette sneered, “you can try,” and pushed off the ground, flopping onto his side.

“ _Zut!_ Lafe, stay right there.”

“Maybe, I will,” Lafayette answered, rolling to his back and staring up at the clear blue sky. When he felt Wade pawing at him, he opened his mouth but could not seem to find his voice to tell him to leave him be.

“Good Lord, will you lookie, he is split from his collar bone to his ribs,” said Wade Morrow.

Then a lancing flame yanked Lafayette from his drifting state as Wade pressed a cloth pad to the saber slash, and he softly gasped, “Ohhh, that hurts.”

Wade answered, “bet it do.”

Yet, within a few breaths, the calm floating feeling returned, and with a sigh, Lafayette let his eyes drift closed.

Having finished Albert, Brody slid over, peeling up the already soaked pad; he sucked in his lower lip with a hiss. “Hey, now, Lafe, need you to open your eyes.”

“Uh-Huh, let _moi_ be.”

“Did ya notice his pant leg is coated in blood?” Common asked.

Brody shot a look to it, “bind that up, Common…Gid??”

“Already gettin’ it threaded.”

Taking hold of the ragged gash, Brody overlapped the skin. “I am serious now, Lafe; I need you to open your eyes.”

A long hiss of air slid from Lafayette, and he, barely, shook his head, slipping deeper into the soft quiet, blanketing him.

Brody’s hand lashed out, cracking across Lafayette’s pale, waxy face, “Lafayette Henri Begnoir!”

The deep brown eyes popped open.

Common frowned, “make it a sight easier on ‘em, if’n you just let ‘em pass on out.”

“Ain’t got no time for that,” Brody snapped, hastily stitching the flaps of skin together. “We all gotta keep movin’, and it is goin’ to be enough of a bitch getting ‘em on horseback without bein’ blacked out.” Tugging at the needle, Brody eyed Lafayette’s slack face. “Can you hear me, Lafe?” He took another stitch, “Lafe? Come on, now, stay here with _moi_ , _Frère Cadet_ _._ ”

“ _Frère Cadet?_ Ain’t that what he calls Tad _?_ ” Wade asked.

Shooting him a hard look, Brody roared, “Go fuckin’ find, Taddy!”

Scrambling up, Wade took off.

In short order, Thaddeus came sliding up. He must have run through a tree limb when they were retreating because the red welts across the right side of his face became dramatic as the color drained from him. “ _Jésus pleura,_ Lafe.”

Slow as a dandelion puff on the wind, Lafayette’s eyes shifted open, “Hey, there, Taddy.” Even slower, he rolled out a lazy, half-smile, “I am goin’ be all right, Gabe’s here tendin’ _moi._ ”

Thaddeus pulled back, his nose wrinkling, “ _qu’elle?”_

“Never mind, he has lost a lot of blood,” Brody answered, tying off his work. “Well, it sure ain’t pretty, but he is bleedin’ less. You bandaged ’em and keep ‘em awake.”

Thaddeus remained unmoving, staring wide-eyed at his brother.

Popping him on the back, Brody snapped, “You fuckin’ listenin’ to me, Taddy?”

Thaddeus nodded.

“Good, when you are done, you and Common get ‘em on a horse.”

Albert was gulping water from a canteen Reed had brought to him, and looking up, Reed Chaplin said, “I will get Albert back his horse, and ride with ‘em.”

“Good, ‘cause I am gonna...” Brody snagged up the bachelor kit, “see where else I can assist Doc.” He looked off the way they had come, “I do not trust them Federal dogs. I want us out of here, afore they scrounge up the courage to come at us again.”

Astride Cain, Lafayette exhaled mightily, leaning back into Thaddeus.

Wrapping an arm about his brother, Thaddeus whispered, “you sleep…. let _moi_ take care of’n you for once.”

“Taddy, who all is--”

“Hush, ain’t your fuckin’ concern, right now.”

“It is _toujours m’_ concern.”

Thaddeus’ grip on Lafayette tightened, and urging Cain into a smooth, rocking trot; he muttered, “for once, just fuckin’ rest, _Gran Frère.”_

It was well after dark by the time they discovered a deep, box holler to disappear in, and a collective sigh could be heard from both men and horses as they dismounted.

“Lafe…” Thaddeus shook his brother.

“Hmm?”

“You hold on while I get down.”

_“Oui.”_

As Thaddeus started sliding back over Cain’s rump, he saw Lafayette tip sideways. Yelping, “fuck!” Thaddeus lunged forward, catching his brother and balancing them both as Cain did a small crow-hop. Grunting out a snort, Thaddeus muttered, “thought you agreed to hold on?”

“Did I?”

“ _Oui,_ you did. Now, you gonna fuckin’ hold on this time?”

“ _Oui_.”

“That is what you said last time.”

A strained chuckle drifted from Lafayette, bringing a rush of relief to Thaddeus, and once he had them both on the ground, Lafayette mumbled, “Where are we?”

“Fox and Eddie are arguin’ over it. Eddie says, near Oak Point and Fox is fuckin’ adamant we are closer to Buck Knob.” Thaddeus answered, placing Lafayette down with his back against a leaning cottonwood.

“Can I get a drink?”

Thaddeus nodded, returning promptly, from Cain with a canteen.

“I meant whiskey.”

“I am fuckin’ empty, but I will see if’n I can roust some up.”

Lafayette scowled at the canteen, but spinning the lid off, asked, “you goin’ do it now?”

“ _Non,_ goin’ to see to our _chevals_ \--”

“ _Chevals?”_ Lafayette interrupted, his face brightening, “That means you found Coffee?”

“ _Oui,_ he is gimpin’ some, but movin’ better than you,” Thaddeus grumped, turning again to leave, but raising one of his black brows, he spun back. “Do I need to worry about you not fuckin’ being...” He pointed at Lafayette, “…here, right here, when I return?”

“ _Non_ , I ain’t goin’ nowheres.”

“You are goin’ stay put.”

Lafayette nodded, taking a drink of water.

_“_ Loathe to think _qu’elle_ Doc would say, if’n he got here, and you were missin’. _feu de l'enfer_ , he was upset enough when he saw you ridin’ with _moi._ Seems he was not informed you were injured.” Then with a weary shrug, Thaddeus turned to see to their horses.

“Taddy...?”

“ _Qu’elle?”_

“How many?”

Thaddeus sighed, knowing what his brother was asking. “There was a lot of blood on everyone, then we realized most of it was from us being torn to hell by tree limbs,” Thaddeus fingered the welts slashed across his swollen face. “Doc is workin’ over Albert. That damn calvary saber tore him up something terrible. Damn well, did not do you help you any either.”

Thaddeus scuffed at the dirt, “anyway, once Albert’s ready to travel, JT and Clyde are escorting him and Pem to Chapel Hill. Doc says the bones are all shattered in Pem’s arm, and it needs cut off.” There was more scuffing of the dirt, “I am of a mind you should go with ‘em, _Grand Frère_.”

“I ain’t goin’.”

“But Lafe—”

“Anyone else injured?”

“Uhm…Quinton took a through and through on his lower arm. Same for Eli, exceptin’ it was his calf. Buster had _une_ lodged between his ribs that Doc already took out. Jimmy is next in line for Doc; he has one in his thigh.” Thaddeus stepped closer. By the light of the rising moon, Lafayette could see the worry in his brother’s face. “Lafe, if’n I asked Doc, he would see to you next, then you could be taken to town with the others.”

“ _Qu’elle_ did I just say?”

“I heard you, but---"

“Then stop pesterin’ moi ‘bout leavin’. Send Doc _m’_ way when he is ready.” Lafayette pushed out a flat smile, “and, hopefully, by then, you will have found _moi_ whiskey.”

Thaddeus squatted, picking up a rock; he turned it in over in his fingers.

“Tell _moi_ ‘bout the men.”

“Micah caught _une_ in his right cheek…” Thaddeus pointed at his face, “…and it exited his left without breakin’ even a damn tooth. Zeb got a furrow across his back, and Fox ain’t ceased bitching ‘bout havin’ the tip of his left, center finger clipped off since it happened.”

“I know we lost David Carlyle when they jumped us.” Lafayette’s tongue flashed across his lower lip, “Donnie?”

Tossing the rock, Thaddeus stood.

“Taddy, I saw Jimmy with Donnie.”

Thaddeus raised his face to the moonlight filtering through the shifting, spade-shaped leaves, “Orville and Grandville are diggin’ em a grave, up by the far wall.” He stood still a moment longer, “I am goin’ to see to our _chevals._ ”

Lafayette nodded, and once his brother was well away, he wearily sighed, “Twenty-six.”

When he closed his eyes, he could see each of their faces, those twenty-six who had died following him. Taking a breath, he focused on the pain of his wounds, preferring it to see all those faces.


	26. Chapter TWENTY-FOUR

Chapter Twenty-Four

Opening his eyes, Lafayette remained motionless. Breathing in, he reached out with his senses. The air felt soft with a touch of crispness; there was the comfortable sound of horses cropping grass and a tree at his back. ‘I must have slept; it feels near dawn.’

Feeling the canteen under his hand, he fumbled its lid out, swallowing long draughts of the cold water. The faintest bit of light was pinking the sky and spread under the surrounding trees were various lumps of his sleeping Rangers, closest to him being Jackson and Thaddeus.

Replacing the cork, he ran a fingertip along the intricate small ‘T’ set inside a larger ‘C’ carved into the wood canteen. ‘I know he did this to pass time. Yet why is it we place our brand on all we have? Truth is when I think on it; I have rarely thought of Crowe as being our _nom_ ; it has _toujours_ been a brand, _une_ created by our father. It was something he was proud to hand down to all of’n us. Yet, it _non_ longer means _qu’elle_ it once did…this War and our vengeance has seen to that. Father consistently reminded us our _nom_ had power, it was our strength, and it was our _devoir_ to increase its worth, handing it down stronger.’ Lafayette grunted lightly at this thought, ‘hand _qu’elle_ down, all Father accomplished is destroyed…. and with the warrants posted for Taddy and _moi_ , so is his _nom_ , it sure leaves little to bequeath to a son.’

Scanning the valley, Lafayette tried to change his train of thought, and when he did, it switched rails to Celia Ann Sheldon. The moment it did, he inwardly groaned. ‘ _Zut!_ Will she haunt _moi_ all _m’_ days? How long has it been since I found and lost her at Barnett’s picnic? And, lost her is right, lost her just like lost _m’_ hold on _m’_ damn rage’ He rolled his balled-up fist against his palm. ‘A _fille_ needs a man who can offer her protection, a _maison…_ stability to raise a _famille_. I had all that to give her.’ He pushed harder, his knuckles popping. ‘I could have created Celia a life as she had never dreamed. But I was not man enough to do so. I let _m’_ rage rule _moi_.’

Leaning his head against the cottonwood, he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to clear his mind. ‘Dwelling on her does _non bonne,_ and you know it. That _fille_ is far too clever to want an _imbécile_ who would choose _melee_ over _amour._ ’

Lafayette stiffened, the skin about his eyes tightening. ‘Do I _vraiment amour_ her? How many times have I avoided that question?’ Inhaling deeply, he felt the skin across his chest tingle with pain, and he exhaled slowly. ‘I still recall how she felt in _m_ ’ arms, how the sound of her laughter rippled through _moi_. How her eyes sparked when she smiled, and how I wanted nothing more than to stay at her side makin’ her smile. But _amour_?’

Thaddeus mumbled in his sleep, and Lafayette's eyes drifted to his brother before shifting out over the lightning valley. ‘I think I did _amour_ her….or still do…for when Celia fills _m’_ thoughts, so too does the memory of how complete I felt at her side as we shared who we were and who we wanted to be…it was a beginning…a beginning of a story I _très_ much wanted to experience.’

Birds ruffled their feathers, flitting from tree to tree, and slowly his Rangers started rousing.

‘I was an _imbécile_ then and still am now for even if Celia could accept _moi…_ we live in a time with _non_ law, not in _mon_ self, not anywhere, and there must be law to allow _amour_ to prosper. And this damn War has destroyed all chances for that.’ He frowned, softly, ‘although is it not exactly _qu’elle_ we fight for… _amour,_ _famille,_ truth, and the honor of our _très_ culture.’

Gnawing at the corner of his mouth, he flexed his left leg. ‘ _Bordel de merde_ , that is worse than I thought it was goin’ be.’ Inhaling, he pushed his back to the tree, trying to stand, and a white rip of pain shot across his chest so quickly, he sharply sucked in his wind.

Jackson’s smoky, blue eyes opened, and with a groan, he sat up, scrubbing a hand through his unruly, blonde hair, “Hey, Bub…” a yawn took over, and he absently waved a hand at Lafayette. “Suggest you stay right there.” Rolling over, Jackson grabbed his own canteen, sloshed it, and took a drink. “Time, I finished tendin’ the others; you were asleep. Figured you needed it.” Jackson yawned hugely, “knew I did.”

“Do not recall fallin’ asleep.”

Standing, Jackson replied, “most likely not,” Then kicking the sole of Thaddeus’ boot, he grunted, “coffee and hot water.”

There was a string of curses, and Thaddeus burrowed deeper under his blanket.

Jackson kicked him harder.

With a snarl, Thaddeus launched to his feet. “ _Qu’elle_ do you want _?_ ”

“Coffee and hot water.”

Thaddeus stood wavering bleary-eyed for a second and with a snort stumped off.

“He will be set to cuss you once he returns.”

Jackson chuckled, “course, he will.” Coming over, he dropped beside Lafayette, “Let us see how terribly Brody stitched you.”

“Taddy told _moi_ of the others.”

Jackson nodded.

“How are they doin’?”

“Well as can be expected.” Shaking his head, Jackson paused from removing the bandages to angle an eye up at Lafayette. “Personally, I think you should be lyin’ in a bed over in Chapel Hill like Albert and Pem. But I was informed you were rarin’ toward being argumentative ‘bout it.”

Lafayette flashed a flat smile.

Irritated with trying to remove the bandage, Jackson jerked the pearl-handled knife from Lafayette’s boot top, using it to cut the stiff, bloody fabric away. “ _Zut!_ Worse than I thought.”

Lafayette peered down questioningly as Jackson tenderly felt of the swollen, roughly, laced wound. “Brody has left as much hanging free as he sewed, and you have a heat brewin’ in there.” Pulling at his lower lip, Jackson shook his head. “Goin’ need to do it again.”

Lafayette’s eyes widened, “again??”

“Afraid so.”

“I would prefer if’n you did not.”

“I would prefer the same.” Jackson shrugged, “however, Bub, there is a reason y’all keep calling me Doc.”

“ _Qu’elle_ if’n we cease?” Lafayette asked.

“What?”

“You _toujours_ go on how you do not care for the title, well, I can get ’em all to cease callin’ you Doc.”

Jackson stared dumbfoundedly at him and then snorted out a laugh. “Where the hell is Taddy?” Standing, he arched his back, “I need coffee afore I start.” He yawned hugely, “goin’ for my gear.” Rubbing at his watering eyes, he grinned down on Lafayette. “Hey, Bub, do not go wonderin’ off.”

“Funny.”

“You do not think so?”

“I do not.”

Jackson snorted; as he walked away, his shoulders shook from his stifled laughter.

“Do not be deemin’; I am in the mood for your mirth.”

At the irritation coating, Lafayette’s words, laughter exploded from Jackson loud enough to disturb any left sleeping. Thirty minutes later, Jackson came back, his shirt sleeves were rolled, and his hair hung wet down his back. Seeing the fire, he nodded approvingly at the bubbling water. “Taddy ain’t here?”

“Naw, he went off to see Fox.”

Pouring himself a cup, Jackson settled down next to Lafayette, and for a time, they sat in comfortable silence observing the camp.

“Might as well get this done,” Jackson stated, bringing the hot water back to the tree and laying out his tools. When he saw Lafayette’ looking a bit green, he drolly scolded, “Lean back and cease studyin’ it.”

“I look like a side of meat laced together for roastin’.’

Handing his friend a green stick wrapped in, he nodded, “plan on fixin’ that.”

Staring at the swaying leaves overhead, Lafayette tried not to listen to the snip, snip of the scissors, while holding in his grunts at the stabs of pain they caused. “It all feels pretty hard and crusty. Is it, Doc?”

“It is. Figure to soak it all with hot cloths to soften the scabbing and then…” Jackson’s words trailed away as he leaned closer.

“ _Putain d'enfer_!” Lafayette yelped, pulling away, the tree keeping him from getting far.

“Oops! Took off a bit much.”

“ _Non merde!”_

The snipping restarted, “once I put hot packs on this to soften it, I will see that burn on your arm, and dig the lead from the leg. Then I can clean this, and sew you back up….” Jackson grinned, “…. much neater and better.”

As the ministrations continued, the pain level increased until, with a hard groan, Lafayette placed the stick between his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the fluffy clouds scudding by. When his watering eyes turned the sky a blurry mess, he concluded he had bore with it long enough. Spitting out the stick, he grunted, “are you nearly done?”

Jackson shook his head.

“Then, could you not knock _moi_ out?”

Surprise evident in his face, Jackson answered, “I have laudanum.” He rocked back on his heels, “you askin’ for it?”

“You rightly know, I do not like opiates.”

“That is why I did not offer any,” Jackson replied, returning to his ministrations. “So, what are you askin’ for?”

“Maybe…you or Taddy could punch _moi_ or something.”

A braying laugh erupted from Jackson, and he dropped back on his rump, shaking with laughter, barely able to get out, “that is not happenin’.”

“And, to think I consider you _m’ frère._ ”

“As do I, you. And for that reason, amongst many others, I am not havin’ you beat on top of being carved.” Jackson answered, waving toward his saddlebags with a blood-soaked hand. “So, you want the laudanum?”

_“Non_!”

“Then, put the stick back in your mouth, so I can finish up,” Jackson replied, focusing again on cleaning debris from the wound. He was more than halfway done when Lafayette ceased tremoring beneath his hands. Raising his head, Jackson peered at his friend’s lax face, studying the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. “ _Pour l'amour de Dieu_ , Bub,” he muttered, looping another stitch in Lafayette’s leg, “‘bout time you blacked out, was startin’ to think you were goin’ to hang with me ‘til I was through.”

Next, Lafayette opened his eyes, he was lying flat on his back, and shadows were painting the valley into darkness. ‘Sure, is hot,’ he thought, ‘ _mon_ mouth and throat feel dry as sunbaked leather.’ He tried to sit up, and a flare of pain reminded him to lie still.

“Hey, there.”

Turning his head, he saw someone scootching closer, and they placed a canteen to his lips. The water felt like the greatest luxury he had ever experienced, but then it was taken away.

“More.”

The canteen briefly returned, “Doc said only a bit. He does not want it comin’ back up.”

A cool cloth was placed on his forehead, “Doc also says rest is the best way for you to beat this fever, so go on back to sleep, _Frère Cadet_.”

“Gabe??”

“Go to sleep.”

Far away, there were voices, and slowly they became sharper, and even slower, Lafayette grasped his eyes were open.

“Well, _feu de l'enfer_ , ‘bout time you joined us.”

Lafayette’s tongue traced across his lips; he squinted his eyes, bringing Brody into focus.

Lifting his head, Brody placed the canteen to his lips, and once more, the water felt like a gift from God himself.

When Brody pulled the water away, Lafayette croaked out, “how long?”

Brody’s smile burst free, “ain’t it just like you, first thing out of your mouth is a question.”

Lafayette blinked, and taking a breath, asked, “how long I been layin’ here?”

“Taddy would say too long,” Brody replied, giving Lafayette another drink. “That boy has been beside himself with worry.”

Lafayette’s eyes widened.

Setting the empty cup down, Brody nodded, “but it is all fine now, ‘cause Doc said if’n you outlasted that fever, you would come round fine as strained cream.”

Lafayette nodded.

“I am goin’ fetch, Taddy.”

Lafayette nodded again.

“Want anything else?”

“ _Oui?_ ”

“Yeah?”

“How long?”

Brody shook his head, “two days, Lafe, two days.” Moving to stand, he paused. Smiling warmly, he gripped Lafayette's hand, “it is damn fine havin’ you back.” Standing, he chuckled, “You might ‘en not inform Taddy, I let you in on how much he has been frettin’.” He looked off toward the main part of the camp, “you know how he gets.”

The dimpled smile appeared, the familiar jovial light coming into the deep brown eyes, “that I do.”

Brody sucked in air, his chest rising up full, and with a smile, he released it, turning on his heel.

“Brody?”

Looking back, he arched one brow, “yeah?”

“I seem to recall thinkin’ Gabe was here, but it was you?”

Brody bowed his head, then squatted. “You asked for ‘em?”

“ _Merci beaucoup_ for steppin’ in.”

Brody swallowed and shrugged, “like I told you,” he grinned tightly, swallowing again. “I have known you twenty years, Lafe…” He patted Lafayette’s hand, “goin’ to dig up, Taddy.”


	27. Chapter TWENTY-FIVE

Chapter Twenty-Five

As spring turned to summer, the Red Legs and their Missouri Home Guard accomplices were the terror of Missouri. Their United States commissioned military ranks making their iniquities all the more salacious. Furthermore, there was a deep fear to oppose them as it was widely known they did not hesitate to murder anyone considered troublesome or overly curious.

They patrolled the western counties, raiding countryside and townships, stripping citizens of personal property, livestock, and grain stores. Appropriating any means, they wished to transport their looted goods back to Lawrence, Kansas, where it would be dispersed to friends and sold at auction. Their progress was easy to follow by the black columns of smoke their torches created and the spinning circles of turkey vultures searching their next feast of hogs, fowl, and sheep that were slaughtered when not commandeered.

The only line of defense presented against them, as Missouri was still under Martial law, were the Partisan Ranger Units. The woodlands were thick with local men and boys, who had taken to the forests to prevent themselves from being murdered by the invaders. The past months Lafayette and his Rangers had ridden with other units, striking back, fighting for what they believed in most…the people of their State.

**Friday 18 th of July 1862**

Large beads of sweat streaked from beneath their horses’ breast collars, canteens sloshed near empty, while clothing clung salt stiff and sticky to the Rangers riding slowly across a farmer’s overgrown field.

Taking off his hat, Lafayette wiped sweat from the band before returning it to his head. ‘I hope this _famille_ is _amical.”_ He glanced back at the five horses they had in tow, “be nice to exchange these extra mounts for forage, water, and perhaps, even some baked goods from the _madame_ of this place.’

Pleading screams reached out to the Rangers before they saw the homestead. No orders need to be given. They pulled iron, laying heels to their horses, tearing up a gulley, they rushed across the front lawn of a pale blue home with long narrow shuttered windows.

Dominating one side of the house was a wide-armed Burr Oak spreading dapples of shade across the grass, and beneath it, a motherly lady was on her knees, clinging to the leg of a blue-coated officer. Just as this came into view, the Officer kicked her, so she flipped backward, coming to a halt beneath the dangling, jerking legs of her man.

Thaddeus thumbed his Remington three times, shooting so fast it sounded like one shot, and blood dotted the sky, the pair holding the hangman’s rope, and the Officer jerked, crumpling to the ground.

Her man having been released, the woman clawed at the rope gagging him as the Rangers dispersed across the farm like a spring flood.

Riding to the couple, Lafayette appraised each soldier. The first was dead, a good deal of the back of his skull gone. The second clutched at his spurting throat, cocking his LeMat; Lafayette shot him in the forehead. Meanwhile, the Officer was making a miserable attempt at crawling away. Stepping down from Coffee, Lafayette hooked his boot under the man’s chest, flipping him onto his back.

The Officer’s eyes rose to Lafayette, and on seeing it was man, so many years his junior, standing over him, the Officer swelled up with anger, barking. “I am Major Mathew Reynolds, and according to the laws of war, I demand quarter for myself and my men as your prisoners.”

Lafayette’s loose dimpled smile rolled out.

Anger reddened Reynold’s face, “do you not understand what I am saying?”

“Oh, I understand _vous_?” Lafayette chuckled. Cupping a hand to his mouth, he shouted, “Quinton!”

Quinton Nicholson came at a run, his buckskin sliding to a halt near Lafayette. “What may I do for you, Capt?”

Lafayette’s eyes sparkled as he looked down on the bleeding Major. “Cadet Nicholson, inform this officer…” Lafayette sneered, kicking the heel of the Major’s boot, “ _qu’elle_ _vous_ were trained regardin’ civilians caught between warring States.”

Shooting a glance to the Major, Quinton sat straighter, locking his eyes forward. As if by rote for an instructor, intoned. “Sir, War is a strategic conflict between men enlisted to defend their Nation's beliefs in an aggressive battle against like-minded men. Hence, all unarmed civilians and their properties should be strictly protected, for how can we call ourselves men if we do not uphold to the highest virtues of our Christian upbringings, even while at War. Thusly, pillage and vengeful attacks against civilians are of the lowest order, below the honor of a military man and the committal of such should be treated as high crimes.”

Major Mathew Reynolds stared bug-eyed up at Quinton.

_“Merci beaucoup,_ Quin.” A toneless laugh rolled from Lafayette, “So Major, did _m’_ West Point Ranger quote that correctly enough for _vous_?”

Reynold’s lips pulled tight to his teeth, “Not quite, he left out…subject to the necessities of military operations, at which private property may be taken for military use. In this instance, that man, over there, was proving himself to be in treasonous rebellion by not assisting our operations.”

Lafayette looked to the silver-haired farmer draped across his wife’s lap. “I see no weapons of rebellion.”

“He would not disclose where he kept the forage, which we require to complete our operations.”

“So _vous_ felt justified to stretch the details from ‘em,” Lafayette said, walking to the coiled roped lying near the farmer. The memory of his Father and the flames exploding from Sienna filling him, so his face darkened with blood. “ _Vous_ Federal bluebelly cowards are the lowest form of vermin, attackin’ _familles_ at their _maisons_ rather than men who are prepared to battle against _vous_.” Then his dimpled smile, which had become so well known, expanded, and he raised his revolver.

“Hold! I am an officer of the Grand Army of the Republic and deserve quarter, for it is only a military tribunal which can judge whether the orders I have given were incorrect.”

“I need no judge to tell _moi vous_ are in the wrong. May _Dieu_ have mercy for _vous_ pitiable soul for I have none.”

The LeMat boomed; its shot taking the Lieutenant in the chest, slamming him back, and Reynolds clawed at the wound with a gurgling cry. A second-round silencing him altogether.

Turning from the dead Major, Lafayette observed his Rangers had been like a plague upon the invading Federals. “Quin, you and a few _garçons_ ascertain none are in hidin’.” Holstering his LeMat, Lafayette removed his broad-brimmed hat, bowing to the couple. “ _Monsieur, Madam_ , how may I be of further assistance?”

The lady shrank from him, ducking her face behind her raised hands.

Halting, Lafayette ran a hand back through his damp hair. “Taddy, _s'il vous plaît_ , find Doc for the _Monsieur._ ”

“Will do,” Thaddeus responded, from his usual position, just to the left of Lafayette’s shoulder. Trotting by Teague Hays, Thaddeus shoved him toward the Burr Oaktree, “watch over, Capt’.”

Slanting an eye to Teague as he approached, Lafayette squatted, placing his hat on his bent knee. “ _Madame,_ _mes apologies_ for perpetrating such violence before you. It was quite inappropriate of _moi,_ and I do apologize. I am Captain Lafayette Crowe, _mon_ self and _m’_ Rangers will do y’all _non_ harm, upon _m’_ life, I swear this.”

Her husband had gathered himself, some, offering his hand. “Pity’s sake, Leonie, these boys saved us all, show some hospitality.”

Taking the calloused hand, Lafayette replied, “The pity is we should be required for such tasks. Yet, we are your humble servants, _qu’elle_ …. what further can we do to aid y’all?”

“You have done more than could be requested, Captain Crowe.” The farmer shook his head at the flames rising from three of his outbuildings. “Suppose they would have gotten around to torchin’ it all.”

“Most certainly,” Lafayette peeked back across his shoulder at the farm, taking a breath against a sharp pain from his slow to heal, chest wound. “We have seen it often enough. Pleased, we arrived in time. Teague, _s'il vous plaît_ inform Orville to have those carcasses strapped to their saddles and run them from the property to be found elsewhere.”

“Tad said I was to watch over you.”

Lafayette shook his head slightly, a tired smile appearing, “I am capable of watchin’ over _mon_ self, do as I say.”

“What about supplies, Capt’?”

“Tell the _garçons_ to take anything worthwhile, as long as it does not belong to…” Lafayette gestured toward the farmer, “... I did not get your _nom_ , _Monsieur._ ”

“Severin…. Severin Schäfer,” the farmer replied, blue twinkling from between the creases that were his eyes. “You, boys, really showed them the right of it; I salute you.”

“Severin, how can you say such?” Leonie asked, “those were Union men same as we.”

Feeling of the raw, ripped ring about his neck, Severin frowned deeply. “is that not what we told them, too? Informed them we were loyal Unionist, and how our two boys are off fighting for President Lincoln and see how they treated us. Leonie, way I see it, I prefer these boys here,” He looked straight into Lafayette’s eyes. “I take it, you are guerillas.”

“We prefer Partisan Rangers, _Monsieur_ Schäfer.” As Lafayette said this, Jackson came loping up with his saddlebags dangling from one hand. “And this here is our Doc. I am goin’ to leave you with ‘em while I see to _m’_ Rangers.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed at Lafayette’s tight, pale face.

“I am fine, see to _Monsieur_ Schäfer.”

As Lafayette started to rise, Severin placed a hand on his leg. “You asked what you could do for us, but I betting you came here needing something, Captain Crowe?”

“ _Oui…_ yes. We have extra _chevals…_ horses, and I had hopes of exchanging ‘em for forage. Yet, it appears, you have none to spare. So, we shall be on our way shortly.”

“That is not true.”

“Severin!”

“Hush, woman.” Severin Schäfer sat straighter, “If I had revealed to those men where I hid my harvest, they would have also found the boys.”

“Severin, no!”

“I said hush, and I mean it.”

Jackson and Lafayette’s eyes slanted to one another, and seeing it, Severin Schäfer chuckled, “my Leonie is a good woman. She is just having a difficult time seeing the right of how you all acted, us being on opposite sides in the War and all. But them...” He glanced at the dead men. “…onliest side they are on is for themselves. My boys, Johann and Hagen are too young to be a part of any of this. But, if those __swine had found them, well, it makes my heart quiver to think about what they may have done.” Taking his wife’s hand, he gently squeezed it. “show the Captain where he can load corn for his mounts.”

“If you have me do this, we shall be aiding the enemy. Severin, you read us from the paper the warnings against such actions.”

“ _Liebes,_ we must reconsider who our enemy is.”

She turned bright blue eyes to Lafayette, and he flashed his dimpled smile. She drew back, as it was the same smile he had worn while shooting the Major to pieces.

“I may appear to you as the devil, _Madame_ , and I am most certainly pavin’ _m’_ way to Lucifer’s kingdom. However, I was raised a gentleman, and I would slit _m’_ throat before I harmed a lady or child. You honestly have naught to fear from _moi_ or _m’_ Rangers.”

Slowly, she stood.

Doing the same, Lafayette took a few steps back as she straightened her dress with her chin tucked low as she listened to their Doctor speak in their native German to her husband while seeing to his wounds. At length, she peeked over at Lafayette and then, squaring her shoulders, said. “Perhaps, my husband is correct, and I am relying more on what the newspapers say than what I have seen myself.” Bowing her head, she did a brisk curtsy, “My apologies, and appreciation _Herr_ Crowe.”

“Accepted with the hope we shall _toujours…_ always remain friends.”

Having loaded the needed forage, the Rangers departed as night arrived, drifting into it and its cool embrace. Before they vanished in the woods, Lafayette looked back to the farm, grateful they were able to protect the Schäfers from the same horror he carried within himself, a feeling the filthiness of War did not often afford him.


	28. Chapter TWENTY-SIX

Chapter Twenty-Six

**Friday 15 th of August 1862**

The Diamondback Saloon’s front doors had been braced open, with hopes what little breeze existed might find its way inside and heaving a sigh, Lafayette settled his shoulder against the door frame, wiping a gritty layer of sweat from his face.

Behind him, he heard Brody grumble, “You plannin’ on biddin’ anytime soon?”

“It is too blasted hot to do anything fast.”

“Today Riggs!”

Turning from the street, Lafayette’s gaze went to Orville, holding up the poker game, then on to others who were eating plates of stew they had already thoroughly derided for its poor quality. Plucking horse hairs from his dark shirt, he thought, ‘hope nothing is wrong.’

Heading for a refill of what Clyde had most eloquently declared piss worthy beer, JT passed him asking, “You gonna come in and sit a spell?”

Lafayette shook his head, his left dimple moving up and down.

“What is gnawin’ at you, Capt’?”

Turning his eyes back to the street, Lafayette replied, “Taddy.” With a frown, he removed his hat, scratching at his scalp as he studied the shimmering waves rising from the hard-packed dirt street. Their undulating movement making the distance to Lone Jack’s center, where the post office sat, look twice as far. Fiddling with his hat, he unconsciously smoothed dirt from the faded black felt.

Spying Northrup scuffing up to the saloon with his head down and shoulders drooping in the August sun, Lafayette placed his hat on, stepping to the edge of the porch, calling, “ _Qu’elle_ is Taddy?”

Fox’s hand flew to the handle of his Colt, his head popping up.

Anger sharpened in Lafayette. “ _Qu’elle_ have I said, ‘bout keepin’ aware of your surroundings?”

The leather soles of Fox’s boots creaked as he rolled onto his toes and back to his heels, a smile stretching across his reddening face, “apologies, Capt’.”

“It will be _moi_ apologizin’ to your _mère_ if’n you get yourself dead.” Moving down the steps, allowing Fox to better see how serious he was, Lafayette snarled, “ _Par Dieu,_ Northrup, pay attention!”

Nodding loosely, Fox hitched up his holster.

“Now, where in Hell’s gate is Taddy?”

“Told me to go on. . .” Fox pointed back to the wide, thick limbed, Blackjack Oaktree, which was the town’s namesake, spreading out from the center of Main Street. “…he is sittin’ on a bench, readin’ the letters, he picked up.”

Lafayette’s eyes went to the dark shade surrounding the massive tree.

Fox darted by and up the steps like a kitten skirting an old tomcat.

Releasing a bullish snort, Lafayette drug himself inside, plopping down alongside Elliot Hecksher, who was watching the poker game.

Leaning close, Elliot whispered, “I think Lee is cheatin’.”

Stretching out his legs and scootching lower in the chair, Lafayette slanted his eyes to the table surrounded by Lee, Orville, Common, Rance, Gideon, and Brody. “For his sake, he best not be,” removing his hat, he dropped it on his chest, and leaning back, cupped his hands behind his head, closing his eyes.

On hearing his brother call for a whiskey, Lafayette opened his eyes, pushing himself to his feet in time to see Thaddeus throw back the shot and tap his glass for a refill. ‘That cannot be _bonne._ ’ Putting his hat on, he set off to find out what was in the letters. However, the rolling patter of approaching horses veered him to the saloon’s gaping entrance. “ _Garçons,_ we got _visiteurs_.”

The soft matter-of-factness of his tone cut through the room.

Boots thumped down from tables, chairs scraping across the sawdust-covered floorboards, and tossing back his drink; Thaddeus clacked the glass onto the bar.

Lighting a cigarillo, Lafayette disapprovingly appraised the freshly minted militia troops dressed in blue dismounting before the saloon. Hearing his Rangers circling behind him, he stepped through his cloud of sweet, tobacco smoke hanging in the air with a polite smile that did not match the grimness in his eyes.

His abrupt appearance startled the young Lieutenant, so intent on his purpose, he had not noticed the Rangers until he was staring up at their Captain. The gangling youngster with wide, meatless shoulders stood with one boot frozen to the bottom step of the porch.

Lafayette’s eyes moved in the darkness beneath his hat brim, noting the Militiamen had not bothered unbuttoning their stiff, pristine, cavalry holsters as they spread out behind their leader. Clamping his smoke in the corner of his mouth, he dryly asked, “ _Monsieur,_ _qu’elle_ may I do you for?”

The Lieutenant eyes darted left and right as Lafayette’s Rangers flowed unhindered down both sides of the porch.

Flicking ash, Lafayette said sharper, “ _Monsieur?”_

Several among the militiamen fumbled at their holsters.

“Whoa now,” Lafayette said casually, raising his eyes to them. “Y’all ain’t wantin’ to start a ruckus? Are you?”

The porch was empty except for Jackson, Thaddeus, Brody, Jimmy, and Fox, whose horses were tied, alongside of Lafayette’s, at a hitching post, directly behind the soldiers.

The young officer stood straighter, “I am Lieut...” his words emitted in a high-pitched squeak. He clamped his mouth shut, his face flaming brilliantly. Coughing hard, he said far firmer, “I am Lieutenant Gerald Brady. Under the authority of Brigadier General Schofield, all able-bodied males of Missouri are mandated to enlist in the State Militia, for the purpose of exterminatin’ guerrillas.”

Lafayette tapped ash from his smoke, making no other movement.

Lieutenant Brady’s surveyed the many revolvers sticking from the beltlines of the men before him and, licking his lips, said softer, “to not enlist is a declaration of rebellion. In essence, you must report for duty or be…” his mouth tremored, “…killed.”

“Well, I will be damned. That is news to us.” Lafayette drawled, moving forward, his boot soles absorbing the fine, cigarillo ash as he descended the steps. “When did this come to be?”

“It was issued the 22nd of July.”

“I see,” Lafayette replied in an easy, half-amused way while staring down on Brady with unblinking eyes. “ _Pardon moi_ , Lieutenant, _vous_ seem to be blocking _m’_ path.”

Lieutenant Brady shuffled back, allowing Lafayette and his pals to sweep down the steps and around him.

A bent nosed Sergeant moved forward, “all y’all appear able-bodied enough.”

Lafayette’s eyes swung to the man, but unlike the Lieutenant, he saw steel looking back. Tilting his head to the Sergeant with a merry grin, Lafayette asked, “so, we are to follow all y’all?”

“Yes,” Lieutenant Brady yipped, coming up alongside the Sergeant. “We have been tasked to round up men for enlistment.”

Pulling the cigarillo from his mouth, Lafayette nodded sagely; flicking ash from the smoke, he set it between his molars. “ _Très_ interestin’,” and with a nod, he walked on toward Coffee.

Before he took more than two steps, the Sergeant grabbed his arm.

Lafayette looked straight into the man’s unsmiling eyes before pointedly to his hand. “Why _Monsieur_ , _vous_ seem to have a hold of _m’_ arm.”

“You fixin’ to comply?”

“I do not care for your tone _.”_

“And I do not care none for your uppity attitude, Boy.”

Lafayette’s dimpled smile spread out, “I would advise _vous_ to remove _vous_ hand.”

The Sergeant sneered, bunching his mustache into the most animalistic manner, “Or, what?”

Clamping a hand over the Sergeant’s wrist, Lafayette spun on his heel, flinging the man across his hip, and slamming him to the ground; as he finished circling, he drew his sidearm. The LeMat’s ratcheting hammer sounding infinitely loud in the stunned silence, yet not as loud as the chorus of hammer clicks, which erupted from his mounted Rangers.

Lafayette’s face lit up with boyish delight. “ _Monsieurs_ , this is fixin’ to get real messy, for if’n, y’all ain’t noticed _vous_ is outnumbered.” Leveling the double-barrel of his LeMat on the Lieutenant, he said, “if’n I was _vous_ , I would advise ‘em to throw down their weapons while they can still make choices.”

Rolling to his feet, the Sergeant growled, “you fuckin’ rebel basta---”

But that was as much as he got before Lafayette's knee struck him in the face.

Lieutenant Brady inhaled hard several times, then gasping, “you heard ‘em.”

With a collection of soft thuds, the Militia’s shiny new Colts dropped to the dusty ground.

Without hesitation, Jackson, Thaddeus, Brody, Jimmy, and Fox made for their horses while Lafayette sauntered through the scowling men as if he had not a care in the world.

“ _Jesus pleura_ , _Gran Frère_ , if’n you ain’t _un_ to fuckin’ write tales about.” Thaddeus gloated, wearing the most enormous smile Lafayette had seen grace his brother’s face, in some time.

Thoroughly enjoying the moment, a wild laugh burst from Lafayette, and he shouted, “Crowe Rangers ride!”

Their flight broke the spell over the Militia Unit, and scrambling for their revolvers, they set to firing, a few even hollering, “death to treasoners.”

Lafayette’s men streamed about the Blackjack Oak, their hooting laughter drying up when they discovered the tree’s girth had been hiding more Militia. And these men were not green soldiers, their uniforms bore the abuse of many battles, and they were already firing.

The revolver blasts became deafening along Lone Jack’s Main Street. As the two units collided, the Crowe Ranger’s better cared for horses rammed the Federals battle-weary mounts aside like children’s toys.

The Militia’s Officer saw more of his men toppling from saddles than he wished; and set to barking, “pull back, regroup, pull back.”

Lafayette released a rebel yell, shouting, “Break for the hills, _Garcons_!”

Racing along the street beside Coffee, Elliot shouted, “Hey, Capt’.”

Looking across with raised eyebrow, Lafayette grinned.

“Lee was cheatin’.”

A laugh rolled from Lafayette, “Damn fortunate, the game got interrupted afore _un_ of ‘em figured ‘em out.”

Shoving his round glasses up, Elliot nodded, smiling.

Leaving the Militia in their dust, the Ranger’s victorious rebel yells echoed from buildings as they rounded the corner of Main.

Shoving his glasses up again, Elliot opened his mouth to yell, and blood spewed from it along with a strangled gasp. Elliot’s roan horse raced on, even as its rider skidded into the ground pillar of a raised plank boardwalk.

“Hey, Elliot…” Lafayette called. Looking over to an empty saddle; he pulled Coffee around so fast, the bay reared.

Elliot was on his hands and knees, groping at the gushing wound in his chest when he saw his Captain returning. There was blood in his throat, and coughing hard, he shouted. “Do not stay…I am done for.”

“To hell you are,” Lafayette replied, leaping down. Snagging the much smaller man up, h flung Elliot on Coffee and had a foot in the stirrup when another bullet exploded from Elliot, painting Lafayette with blood and brains. Then in what felt like slow motion, Elliot’s dead body fell into Lafayette’s arms.

The sudden weight off-balanced Lafayette, and he found himself on the ground beneath his dead friend. Shoving himself free, Lafayette’s eyes popped at the line of Federals charging straight at him. Gulping out, “ _Bordel de merde_!” He jumped up, saying, “ _Très apologies,_ ” to what was left of Elliot, ramming a foot in his stirrup.

Coffee screamed.

The big bay’s head flew up and back, blood spraying into the sky, and then like a limb tumbling down through the branches of a tree, the gelding folded to the ground.

Lafayette staggered back, stunned by the blood streaming from Coffee, all thoughts of survival or even where he was slipping from his mind. All he could see was his horse, who had nuzzled his chest moments after standing the day he was born, his horse which he and Peter had trained together, his horse…. Everything swirled about him, feeling as black as the nightmarish afternoon at Sienna.

Bullets buzzed by, peppering the ground, but it was not until one buried into Coffee’s still flesh with a thud did Lafayette jerk alive. Spinning, he found his Rangers all about him, and there was no playfulness in them now. They were killing Federals with an unrelenting urgency.

Something knocked against hit Lafayette’s shoulder, and when he looked, he saw Brody’s arm extended to him. Except, he turned back to his horse.

Reaching out, Brody grabbed Lafayette’s collar, shaking him. “Damnation, Lafayette, we ain’t got all day! Come on, _Frère._ ”

Sucking in his lower lip, Lafayette snagged the blade from his boot, and springing to Coffee; sliced his saddlebags free. Just as quick, he took Brody’s hand, leaping up behind the older man.

Jamming heels to Artorius, Brody bellowed, “I got ‘em, Boys. Hightail it!”

Like a flock of startled starlings, the Rangers abandoned the battle, careening at a full run with screeching rebel yells through the streets of Lone Jack.

Fox slumped forward against Ebby’s neck.

Veering close, JT held him the redhead to his saddle.

Thaddeus rounded, firing a pair of Colts, and Federals firing on them, bounced from their horses, their blood staining the street as they rolled to stops.

Holstering his revolvers, Thaddeus turned after his friends to discover a fastidiously dressed, older man standing in the street, and his green eyes shot wide with recognition.

Unexpectedly, the man raised a fist, “Thaddeus Crowe, witnessing you murdering honorable men of our Nation makes me regret having saved you from death’s embrace.”

Thaddeus drew back, inhaling hard, and then found his voice, “It were honorable men such as these who murdered _m’ famille._ I do not give a fuck what you regret!” As he passed the man, Thaddeus kicked James Mathews, his hometown doctor, the man he believed a friend. “Fuck you and your nation!!!”

Doc Mathews spun, falling in the street, and as Cain ran on, his delicate gold spectacles were crushed beneath the horse’s hooves.


	29. Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Even though Jackson was not their home County, the Crowe Rangers rode full out along its twisting trails, unhindered by direction or fear. As night’s blanket settled across the countryside, they were the only ones in the woods, encircled by the cicadas deafening mating songs filling the trees.

Rubbing down Eddie’s roan, he had unsaddled, with a handful of grass, Lafayette thought, ‘it should be how I abandoned Elliot to the Federals that is tearin’ at _moi._ ’ Dropping the grass, he tugged gently, soothingly at the horse’s mane. ‘But it is Coffee and losing another part of who I was.’ Giving the gelding a final pat, Lafayette hefted the bridle and saddle over his shoulder.

His saddlebags fastened atop Elliot’s shifted the load, and a stirrup slammed him in the back of the head; pain exploded through his skull. Snarling, he retrieved the saddle blanket, noticing the gelding watching him with his golden-brown eyes. Pausing, he stared back, “cannot even recall your _nom._..” the horse flicked an ear, feeling drained Lafayette walked off.

Dropping the gear alongside Thaddeus’ Texas saddle, Lafayette pawed through Elliot’s bags, searching for the distinct sloshing he had heard on the walkover. Withdrawing a whiskey bottle, he clamped his teeth about its cork, jerking he spit it away, swallowing a good dose of the cheap liquor.

Focusing on the tiny flame, he was encouraging, Jimmy asked, “Ya be all right?”

Lafayette’s insides twisted like water being wrung from a rag; the shame of leaving Elliot swirling with his grief and sinking to the ground, he took another drink.

Eyeing his pal across the flames he was feeding tinder too, Jimmy asked, “ya wish to talk.”

“Not particularly.”

“I be here; ya be changing ya mind.”

Hearing someone approaching, Lafayette squinted up; the wetness trapped behind his thick lashes caused his black eyes to flash in the firelight like a wolf.

“You ain’t in the fuckin’ mood for company, is you?”

“ _Non,_ I ain’t,” Lafayette flatly replied, taking another pull of the bottle.

Thaddeus' mouth hitched to the side; nodding, he reached to grip his brother’s shoulder, and Lafayette avoided his touch.

Crossing his arms, Thaddeus glared at his brother, who was now purposely ignoring him. Releasing a hard snort, he walked off.

Other fires kindled about the grove, and one by one, Rangers settled about them, with none coming to sit beside their Captain.

The alcohol was thrumming in his blood, making their hushed voices sound far away as he regarded them. Setting the bottle on the ground, Lafayette heard the crinkle of paper. Placing a palm to his chest, he felt the letters Thaddeus had passed him earlier this evening.

Extracting them from the inside his vest, he edged closer to the fire until enough light reflected on the words. ‘Hmm, Connor and Jo…. ‘bout _qu’elle_ I figured.’ The corners of his mouth tugged down as he considered them. Placing Joséphine’s letter under the bottle, he studied Conner’s scrawl, ‘well, hell, havin’ tied _un_ on might make untanglin’ Connor’s words easier.’

Hello, Boyo, the lesons I be doing with Mikey be helping me rite you. Sumtimes, I ask the lad to spell sumthing. He smiles so big. It stil makes me not feel bad to ask. Stil I shuld ask him more. I tell me self, you do not care how me words look. You be happy to get them. I know you do bekause geting you leters make me happy. I wish to tel you Josie’s lassies be the purtytiest happy babys I ever seen.

Rereading the last line, Lafayette dropped Conner’s letter snatching his sister’s so fast, the bottle tipped over, rolling to a stop against his leg.

Good Day, Uncles

The pair of you are formally Uncles for a second time. Or, since I up and had twins…would that make it a second and third time? Either way, the girls and I are healthy. Our eldest is Eudora Antoinette, and her younger sister is Lorraine Elizabeth. We all call them Nettie and Lizzie, and for myself, I am still confounded that I had twins.

Lowering the letter, Lafayette saw his brother staring his way from across the fire. When their eyes met, Thaddeus’ mouth pinched into a tight smile. After a brief moment, he turned his attention to Fox, who was jabbering on about how lucky he was the bullet had hit the thick leather at the back of his shoulder holsters, the blow stunning and bruising him.

Staring back at the letter, Lafayette noticed spattered smudges, ‘ah, makes sense now… Taddy wantin’ privacy and whiskey back in town.’ Keeping his head bowed, he studied his brother from the slant of his eye, thinking. ‘Twins. Somehow, the word hurts. Taddy and Dora were ‘The Twins’. Only twins, any of us ever knew of.’

Thaddeus green eyes flicked his way as if he could feel Lafayette’s eyes on him.

Switching his gaze to the letter, Lafayette thought, ‘Wonder if’n that is why Jo _nommée_ them after Dora? Well, despite it festerin’ at Taddy, I am delighted for Jo. Hell, for all of’n us, _notre famille_ shall continue through these _filles.’_

Without asking, Jackson took a seat by Lafayette, shoving hardtack and a strip of jerky his way. “You goin’ to drink that much rotgut, you should eat something.”

His thoughts on still on Joséphine’s happiness, Lafayette walked out a bright, heartfelt smile to his friend.

Jackson grinned back, “gotta say, Bub, you are positively the only one who has been happy with our dinner fare.”

Seeing what Jackson was offering, Lafayette’s nose wrinkled, “I ain’t smiling ‘bout that.” He waggled the letter, "Jo’s had twin _filles._ "

Jackson’s eyes darted instantly to Thaddeus. “ _Twins_. Well, that explains Taddy’s mood.”

Lafayette’s smile dissolved. Biting off some jerky, he asked, “Want to hear _qu’elle_ she has to say?”

“Would enjoy too,” Jackson replied, shifting about until his back was to Lafayette and leaning against his pal, he stretched out his legs.

Sitting back to back, braced into one another, was something the pair had done since they were young. The weight and warmth of Jackson’s body brought an old comfy feeling to Lafayette. Taking up the bottle, he found several drinks left and nudged Jackson, offering the bottle.

“No, thanks.” Jackson responded, “and I advise you to eat a bit more, instead.”

“Is that counsel from Doc or _m’ frère_?”

“Both. Still, I damn well know you will not listen to either.” Jackson answered, shifting his backside out and leaning more comfortably into Lafayette’s back, “go on and read to me.”

Taddy, I do apologize; I was unable to ask your permission before naming our girls. Mams said the permission ain’t yours to give. But I told her she was wrong. Earned me the look, you know which one. But then, she softened, saying ‘he will not mind once he thinks on it.’

“Wait. What are their names?”

“Eudora Antoinette and Lorraine Elizabeth.”

Jackson grunted, “humph, she caught ‘em comin’ and going.”

This time, they both peeked to where Thaddeus was sitting by the fire, except he was no longer there.

Lafayette stiffened.

“Do not go after him, Bub. You ain’t goin’ to be able to help ‘em work out how he feels, any more than he can help you over today’s events.”

A shuddered breath escaped Lafayette, recalling Elliot and Coffee lying side by side in bloody pools of their making, gripping tight of the letter, he searched for where he had stopped reading.

Way of it is this, Taddy, when I was given the pair of them, all I could think of was you and Dora. I wanted them to share her name as I know she would have doted over them. Anyway, what is done is done, and I hope it does not upset you too much. I love you, _petit frère._

Okay, so my Nettie has dimples, and I am glad for her. See, I have always been terribly envious of y’alls dimples. They just make the pair of you look ever so dashing and roguish.

A snorted laugh escape Jackson, and a flash of red raced across Lafayette’s cheeks.

“Dashing and roguish, hmm?”

“ _Ta gueule,_ or I will stop readin’ to you.”

Swallowing his snickering, Jackson got out, “go on.”

I suppose because I was straight out honest with y’all, you are both hooting at me now.

Snickering arose from Jackson, “Boy howdy, the others will be snortin’ and hootin’ when I inform ‘em, how dashing and roguish you two are.”

Craning his head about, Lafayette saw Jackson’s grinning profile, peering back, “you do, and you best disregard yourself as _mon frère.”_

Jackson giggled out, “that mean I get to leave off worryin’ over you and Taddy.”

Lafayette’s brows twisted, his back the muscles becoming rock hard.

“Rope in your temper, Bub.” Jackson sighed, “swear anymores, you take proddin’ about as well as a stomped rattlesnake.”

Lafayette’s brow furrowed, but instead of replying, he began reading.

Nettie has my dark eyes and hair, and Lizzie’s hair is more a tawny brown plus, she has Jon's beautiful, bright, blue eyes. Mams says I should cease gloating because many babies arrive with blue eyes, and then they change. But, Lafe, Taddy, they are so pretty, I hope they do not. Oh, I so cannot wait for y'all to meet them. I just know they will make you smile and laugh as they do all of us.

Next…Lafe, I want you to inform Connor, I am allowed to read your letters rather than him telling me what he wants to. I am positive he censures them too damn much. Before you question any, he did have everyone read the one you sent back in March. It made me cry miserably. It also shut Katherine’s snide remarks down altogether. She still ain’t had not much to say, leastways, she is speaking y’alls names again. Anyway, Lafe, I want to read everything you write, no matter how terrible it is. So, tell him to cease protecting me.

“You goin’ to inform him to let her read everything?”

“Hell, _non,_ what I write Connor, I often tell _non_ one else.”

Jackson asked softly, “not even me?”

Leaning his head back, Lafayette rested against Jackson, closing his eyes. Sitting this way brought to him when they were boys, making him wish all that had passed was only a bad dream, and both of them were still those innocent boys. After a time, he said, “not even you, _Frère_. _Mon_ letters are as close to confession as I get in this damn War.”

A strained quiet enveloped them, until finally, Jackson replied, “I understand, Bub.”

Tilting the letter back to the light, Lafayette said, “ _Merci.”_

Since I have not been allowed to read your letters, I want you to let me know how many of the murderers you have brought to justice? I believe Odette and our Sister would fall over if they knew how this subject affects my prayers. Mams knows, and she does not chide me, not one bit. Speaking of Mams, she told me to write y’all ‘that she loves both of you and misses every day the sweet sound of y’alls laughter.’ Mams also speaks of returning to Missouri. She will say, ‘the _garçons_ ain’t takin’ care of themselves. I know they ain’t.’ So, with knowing that, well, y’all should be even happier, the twins arrived. Cause with them to watch over, she has ceased talking of traveling to Missouri.

Over breakfast, we discuss what the papers have to say about the War. I find the death counts from the battles appalling, and it reminds me how you, Lafe, always said… ‘an agreement can be made, easily enough, if men with sound minds will sit down to talk.’ It makes me wonder why Davis and Lincoln simply cannot talk this all out.

Around here, the Federal’s boats trawl the Gulf like flies on a honey spill, and _Grand-mère_ says, ‘we all must clear out before the enemy decides to take up roost.’ So, it has been decided; we shall adjourn at the end of the week for _L'Eau Sucree._ I find leaving my home in the Garden District breaks my heart, but I must not allow those swine to make prisoners of us.

Jonathon is escorting us to _L'Eau Sucree._ Unfortunately, once we are all settled, he plans to return to blockade running. He has told me the medicine and food they bring in is direly needed by so many; he dares not stop. When he worried over leaving us unprotected, Connor told him, ‘I promised Lafe, I would guard over the ladies, and by the Lord’s grace, I will do so right up to my last breath.’

“Sounds like a good pal you have in Connor,” Jackson said, lighting the quirley he had built. “Hope to meet him one day.”

“I want you to.” Lafayette replied, “Taddy, you, and Connor are _m’ frères_.” He looked back to Jackson, “and, I suppose Brody also….anyway, I pray to have y’all by _m’_ side when this hell is through.”

Jackson nodded, passing the smoke around to Lafayette, “I pray the same,” and he began rolling another for himself.

So, with Connor as our guard, we all will remain at _L'Eau Sucree_ until all this is sorted out unless the War sends us scurrying. Then I do not know what. But I will not invite trouble by thinking about it. For some time, Jonathon or Connor have secretly freighted supplies out there. Jonathon says he has hidden enough about the property we could hold off the Visigoths (whichever State they are from).

Lafayette snorted at this.

Jackson chuckled, “She really never cared for reading at all, did she?”

“ _Non,_ not at all.”

I love, and I miss you both terribly, and all your future correspondence should be sent to _L'Eau Sucree,_ Abita Springs, St. Tammany Parish. I realize, Lafe, you already are aware of this, but I thought Taddy might like to have it all written out for him. Once more, love you both.

Folding the letter, Lafayette returned it to the envelope.

“You think it is better down there than here,” Jackson asked, rolling his lit smoke between his thumb and forefinger.

“I sure as hell hope so,” Lafayette replied, retrieving Connor's letter. He stretched out his legs, leaning more into Jackson, enjoying his warmth pressing into his sore back. “Want _moi_ to read Connor’s to you?”

“Very much so.”

Josie's lassies bring much joy. I be thinking they bring Mams the most. Stil, I ketch her krying. She be a right good Mum, and she be skeerd for you and Taddy. She be always praying with the Lord for you two. This brings to me mind what you be ritin me, Boyo, about losing you self. If you hold tight to Taddy, you be alright, by keeping him good, you be keeping you self good. Do not be thinking of the bad so much. If you do, you will lose you self.

“He is correct.”

Half under his breath, Lafayette muttered, “Suppose he is.”

“Damn right, he is.”

Lafayette’s mouth twitched; he began reading again.

Me, Mum, when things were bad, wood say life be short and not let the bad make me bad. I think the same for you. You do what needs dun. When it needs dun. Then put it behind you. You have a gran family who luv you. You think over that when all be bad round you. I wish I kould be by your side. But I be right ware I need be. I tak me promise serious. I never thought I wood have a family to luv, but you made yours mine, and I do luv them.

Miss Lorraine says the Yankee Amerikans want the Port of Orleans. I think she be rite. It be a good port. She say survivors do not stay where the hornets' nest is dropping and them Yankee Amerikans be worse than hornets. She only calls them Yankee Amerikans. I think to call them this makes them all the more bad. We will be leaving soon for the kountry. Miss Lorraine, she been hiding koin at her home. I told her it worries me. She says she will not let the Yankee Amerikans get one gold koin if she can help it.

Miss Kat stil be hard to you both. She will say your names. But she stil be hard. I be trying to get her to see better. She be having none of it. I will keep at her. I have much more I want to say. I be done as riting so much makes me head hurt, Boyo. Luv to you and may the Lord’s blessings shine down on you, Taddy, and you men. Connor Shelley.

“I do like ‘em.”

“He sounds better in person,” Lafayette replied, rubbing his eyes, “and his letters make _m’_ head hurt, too. Still, it touches _moi_ that he puts such effort into writin’.”

“How does he manage your letters?”

“He takes them to Father Croix over at the St. Louis Cathedral.” Lafayette shifted so he could see Jackson clearly. “Like I said earlier, _m’_ letters are as close as I get to confession.”

“You do not have to explain, Bub; I already said I understand.”

“ _Merci, Frère._ ”


	30. Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT

Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Wednesday 10 th of September 1862**

The day had begun cold, not so cold as to frost, yet there had been a ghostly low crawling fog when they woke. However, as the sun climbed into the sky, so did the temperatures. The fog changing to a smothering humidity that buzzing insects moved languidly through and along a humped ridge, within the trees where the air was thick, the Crowe Rangers stood. Each had a palm on their mount’s muzzles, preventing the animals from whickering greetings to the horses passing below on the road where puddles still stood from the rainstorm that had drenched them in the night.

Standing shoulder to shoulder to his Captain, Jackson leaned still closer, before asking, "Any of them appear familiar?"

Lafayette’s brows were furrowed, trying to decide this himself.

Leaning out around Nero to catch Fox’s eye just beyond Reed, Jackson mouthed, “You?”

As every member of their unit joked that Fox knew someone wherever they went, but the truth was, he did. Fox shook his head.

Tugging at his beard, Jackson whispered, “should we ride on, Bub?”

Still, stealthily watching, Lafayette's nose scrunched, a frown forming.

"None of them are wearing blue."

" _Zut_ , Jackson, I ain’t blind."

"Humph," was Jackson's snorted reply.

In a low whisper, Lafayette said, "I count fifty-two."

Clyde hissed, "fifty-five, Capt’. Ya missed a few when Doc was distractin' ya."

Lafayette’s eyes narrowed, "Taddy?"

"Down here," came the hushed reply.

Handing his reins to Jackson, Lafayette moved to his brother, "I am gonna require your skills."

Thaddeus' left eyebrow jutted up.

"You rightly know you got an edge over all of ‘n us when it comes to handlin’ revolvers." 

"Ain't no reason to butter _moi_ up, _Frère_ ," Thaddeus smirked, loosening the Remington in its damp holster to ensure it would not stick. "If'n we are gonna do this, then let us fuckin' get to it. You want 'em limpin’ or dead?"

"Time comes; I leave it to your judgment." Lafayette replied, holding up a fist and extending his index finger, he swirled it in a circle, and the Rangers slunk up into their saddles, even as he hissed, "Brody."

Brody looked his way, and Lafayette held up eight fingers and pointed to the far side of the road. Walking careful, he moved to Rance, “want you to take rest of the _garçons,_ spread out along here, and pace ’em.”

Swinging aboard Elliot’s horse, he had taken to calling JR for just roan since he could not recall the animal’s name, he found Brody sitting his horse right alongside him.

"Fifty-five is a pretty sizable number."

"I want to know who they are."

"You sure…?” Brody shook his head, “That is an awful big batch to bite into."

Turning his head slowly, Lafayette looked into Brody's eyes. Laying such a sharp black look on him, Brody ducked his head, riding out without another word.

Thaddeus snorted lightly, "Fuck, but I believe you could make Lucifer cringe."

"I will make _mes excuses_ later.” Lafayette replied, loosening the revolver’s in his saddle holsters, “times are _m’_ patience slips at a touch."

Tugging his hat down until it shadowed his green eyes, Thaddeus replied, “a touch, huh?"

“Yeah, a touch,” a grin came to Lafayette’s face, “now, gets a move on before it slips with you."

Once out on the road, the brothers urged their horses into a ground covering trot with Lafayette, robustly whistling 'Oh! Susanna!’ Before he made it through the song once, they found themselves facing the unknown riders.

Reeling JR in, Lafayette pushed his hat back, so it rested on the crown of his head and, leaning forward, draped his arms across the saddle’s shoulders, placing his hands within easy reach of the double-pommel holsters. " _Bonjour,_ _Monsieurs_."

The strangers looked back and forth at each other before a lean man, dressed in buckskins, barked, "What the hell do y'all want?"

Lafayette made a showy glance to his brother, which caused others to do the same.

The front riders relaxed some on noticing Thaddeus' right hand still held tight of his reins, and Lafayette smiled all the more. ‘Poor fools they do not realize it ain’t Taddy’s right hand they should be worrying over.’

The buckskin clad man edged forward. "You hard of hearin’, Frenchie?"

Lafayette’s eyes sparkled, and when he spoke, his words were laced with mirth, "Oh, I heard you, and truthfully, I had _non_ considered wantin’ anything. Although, since we all are sharin’ this stretch of dirt, perhaps y’all might point us toward the nearest town."

A blunt-nosed man with a graying mustache asked, "Y'all ain't from around here?"

Using his full Southern Creole accent to round out his words, Lafayette replied, “Well, that all depends, _Monsieurs,_ on where here might be."

A blaze-faced bay carrying a short, wide-shouldered man trotted straight toward them, and in a thick brogue, he demanded, "Why ye dunderhead! Ye need be answering straight and be for doing it damned quick!" As he drew nearer, he moved to pull a revolver, but before his hand even brushed the grip, he froze with his blue eyes bulging at the sudden appearance of Thaddeus’ shiny Remington.

In a voice frigid as a February morning, Thaddeus declared, "This fucker dies first, and afterward, I still got five fuckin' bullets to waste."

Straightening, Lafayette pulled both of his revolvers and, through his laughter, said, “well, now _garçons,_ it does appear this road is fixin' to turn an awfully brilliant shade of _rouge_."

The mustached man slanted his eyes to the man on the bay, and when he looked back to the brothers, he was grinning like a possum. "I would say not too much, once we blow you pair of jackasses away."

The ratcheting of cocking revolvers filled the white chat road, and every rider before the brothers looked alarmingly in all directions.

"You go right the fuck ahead,” Thaddeus answered, his crooked grin appearing. “Except all y'all is preparin’ to turn a fuckin' corner you ain't goin’ to be able to come back ‘round."

Buckskin spit in the dirt, gray mustache frowned deeply, and a scowl darkened the face of the brogue speaker on the bay.

"See, _m’_ Mams _toujours_ insisted," Lafayette drawled. "Once curiosity killed the cat, I must have inherited all of it. _Vraiment_ cannot recall a time; she did not claim _moi_ to be the most infernal, nosey child she ever did raise."

Thaddeus snorted, "Ain't that the fuckin' truth."

"And, about now, I am damn curious who all y'all happen to be?"

A pure mean look twisted buckskins’ face, but the blue-eyed Celt, who Lafayette felt was their leader, started chuckling. "Ease up, Lads. We be on the same side."

Thaddeus snarled, "How is that?"

"We be from Red Oak."

Lafayette scowled, his tone tightening, "Jackson County is a _bonne_ distance from there. _Qu’elle_ y'all doin’ this far North?"

"We been keeping busy tearing up railway beds, telegraph poles, and a burning bridges. Perchance we kept a wee bit too busy. They be for hunting us rather intense in our parts. So, we thought it be a prime sentiment to go a-visiting. I be Captain Clive Parr, and these be my Lads."

"Why are you fuckin' divulging?” Thaddeus asked, his face taking on a stubborn set, "Y'all do not know us from Adam."

"Lord's Blessing, ye sirs be ruffians like we. Yet not quite like we." Clive shook his head with a smile that made his eyes disappear. "Ye, all be a touch more cannie and wily."

"Sounds to _moi_ , like you might have kissed the Blarney Stone, _Monsieur_ Parr," Lafayette answered dryly, not entirely buying what the man was saying.

"Cannot say I have, Lad. Myself, I have never made me way across them bog-trotters lands. I be a proud Scotsman. Yet, since settlin’ here, I be a prouder Missourian, and I not be caring for the Yanks treatment. We come this a way a searching me pals, Fletch Taylor, Larkin Skaggs, and John Kroger. Now come on, Lad, you be knowing we. How ‘bout ye be revealing yeselves?"

From the slant of his eye, Lafayette observed Thaddeus, too, had not lowered his weapon. “ _Qu’elle vous considérer?_ ”

“Way I feel ‘bout Skaggs, I say limpin’.”

Clive Par spoke lowly, a tinge of regret creeping into his tone, “now, Laddies, that be no way to be a treating like-minded visitor.”

Tightening his grip on the pair of revolvers setting heavy in hands, Lafayette studied Clive Parr and then his men.

“We be rightly _ken_ to how ye could shoot us like rabbits in a snare, if’n ye but signaled ye laddies.”

Clearing his throat, Lafayette holstered his revolvers, and riding forward, offered his hand to Clive Parr. As he did, his Rangers rode out of the trees. Nodding to them, Lafayette smiled broadly. “This here cavalry of sharpshooters make up _m’_ Rangers. At least that is _qu’elle,_ I gather as they all call _moi_ Captain. I am Lafayette Crowe, and this one behind _moi_ , still holding you in his sights, is _m’ frère,_ Taddy.”

"If'n I not be a fiddle-footed fool! I shoulda _ken_ ye be the Crowes. There be chin-wagging ‘bout all ye, up and down the border.” He smiled around at the Rangers, “It be said ye be a wee group after abdicating yeselves from General Price’s Graybacks, but that ye be cussed mean and devil clever."

“ _Qu’elle_ do you fuckin’ mean…abdicating?”

Without turning to his brother, Lafayette softly said, “ _s’il vous plaît, ta gueule, Frère_.”

Clive Parr’s blue eyes flicked from one brother to the next, then twisting in his saddle, he thoroughly reviewed the Rangers, a line appearing between his brows. "Hell's teeth, Mike...” he nodded to the man in buckskins, “we done heard how grown men cringe and missies swoon at the very sight of the Crowe Rangers. Did ye not judge they were seasoned dogs? And here, most of them, be only _bairns_ tottering on manhood."

Any Ranger within hearing stiffened in their saddle, their faces hardening except for Lafayette, who snorted loudly and fell to laughing even louder.

All eyes went to him.

Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, he leaned again on the shoulders of his saddle. “Capt’ Parr between hay and grass, we might be, but we sure as hell caught you old dogs flat-footed.” He chirked at Parr and nodded to his Rangers, “and you ain’t seen nothing until you witness _m’_ _garçons_ take on the _ennemi_."

“Well, now Lad—”

Lafayette’s nostrils flared, and holding out a hand, he said, “halt!”

Clive did, his eyes widening, and he stubbornly raised his square chin.

“Captain Par, I would prefer to be addressed as Captain Crowe or Lafayette _._ ”

The much older man’s eyes squinted, then lit with a glow of inner amusement, “Rightly so ye should be demanding, Capt’ Crowe, rightly so. I was fixing to say, we would be right proud to see ye’s laddi…” He grinned, “…Rangers take on our mutual adversaries. How about we be for riding together for a spell?”

Lafayette cocked an eyebrow to Thaddeus, who nodded in return, still not holstering the Remington.

Turning back to Captain Parr with a broad, dimpled smile, Lafayette kneed JR forward, extending his hand. “Sounds like a right fine plan.”

Gripping his hand tight, Captain Parr laughed. “Glad to be friends.” Leaning a bit out, he raised his bushy red brows at Thaddeus. “We be friends, do we not, Lad?”

“We will see,” Thaddeus replied, spitting in the dirt, and holstering his revolver.

Shaking his head appreciatively at Lafayette, Captain Parr lowly said, “he be quite the guard.”

“He is at that.”

“He be as fast as they talk ‘bout?”

The Remington leapt from its holster. Thaddeus slipping it back in place, and it was again in his hand before most of the men had got over being shocked by his first draw.

“Jumping crickets,” Parr shook his head, “going to make damn sure to keep me self on your good side, Tad Crowe, that be for damn sure.”


	31. Chapter TWENTY-NINE

Chapter Twenty-Nine

**Tuesday 21st of October 1862**

Setting the ax head on the ground, Charlie Hammel leaned on the handle, eying the telegraph line stretched taut above him. "Tarnation, I enjoyed our time with 'em Red Oak Rangers, except how they taught Capt’ powerful ideas on how to keep us all busy."

Jimmy replied, "I agree and, I be further believing; I liked it better when he had us just riding on the hunt."

Picking the ax back up, Charlie grinned. "I see the point in interruptin' the Yanks communications, supply lines, and all, but man alive, it can be hot work."

Wiping an arm across his sweaty face, Jimmy nodded, “That be for sure, and I also be liking to know why it turned back hot again.”

"Kind of bothers me," Charlie muttered, swinging the ax, feeling the reverberation through his body as it sunk in the wood.

“This heat it be bothering us all, Bucko.”

“Not that,” Charlie replied, taking another swing.

"What then?"

"My families used the telegraph, plenty a times; it is a right decent invention."

Guzzling his canteen dry, Jimmy belched loudly and proudly, before saying, “Capt' has declared we all be for breaking the line any chance we get."

"I ain't speakin' against 'em," Charlie mumbled, throwing a hurried glance toward their Captain diligently studying maps spread out across a flat-top boulder. "Hey, you notice, he has had us headin' west ever since we parted from the Red Oaks?"

"I figure he be itching for a fight," Jimmy replied, rubbing his leg where Doc had removed a lead ball earlier in the year and recalling how many pals they had buried, his voice lost its jolly tone. “Reckon, I be itching for one also."

The ax sunk deep again with a loud thunk, and working it free, Charlie groused, “Damnation, but I prefer tearin’ poles down with horses. Why the hell did they have to go and attach the line to such a prodigious tree?"

Giving his handlebar mustache a twirl, Jimmy replied, “Because they be understanding, how we all pull down poles smoother than cutting wheat shocks.”

Having got a good rhythm, Charlie had wood chips flying each way and between swings, grunted, “still do not see, why we cannot just cut the wire?”

"That is ‘cause you ain’t usin’ your head.” Lee Ball said, stripping off his war tunic and spitting on his hands. “Them Yanks will put wire right back on this tree if’n we leave it standing. Go on and hand that ax over.”

Extending the handle, Charlie said, “She ain’t gonna give for you, any damn more than she did me.”

Flashing a devil may care smile, Lee replied, “we will see.”

Under his breath, Charlie muttered, “have yourself a merry time of it then,” sauntering off to join Thaddeus and Reed, who were lying about after having already done time behind the ax. Jerking a thumb back over his shoulder, he said, “that pine has no intentions of givin’ in. We should cut the line and move on.”

"Not ‘till that trees down,” Reed replied, offering his canteen.

Taking it, Charlie threw his head back, swallowing a throat full. He gagged. His face flushed red. Gagged again. Coughed some and finally spluttered out, “this is _whiskey_."

Reed slapped Thaddeus on the back, the pair of them snorting with laughter.

Throwing the metal canteen at them, Charlie snapped, "Y'all is plain ruthless."

Having caught it, Thaddeus took a swig, “you do not like whiskey?”

“Not when I ain’t expectin’ it,” Charlie answered, plucking another canteen from a tree limb. He eyed the pair of them, "Water?"

They nodded in unison.

"Why is it...I feel I should not trust y'all?"

Flipping his long deep auburn hair from his face, Reed smoothly answered, “why Charlie, that just breaks my poor ol’ heart."

As Thaddeus opened his mouth to chime in, a tremendous, twisted creak cut him off, and they all turned to see Lee backing away from the tottering pine. Then slow, as an ice thaw, it toppled over the ridge. The telegraph wire whistling as it pulled tight, and with a snap, it zinged off into the distance.

"Ace-high work, _garçons,_ " Lafayette called. "Find your saddles."

Leading Cain and JR over, Thaddeus asked, "Make up your mind where to?"

"Veering south toward Boone then west to Merwin to restock supplies."

Raising his chin, Thaddeus scratched at the whiskers on his neck, "you plannin’ on us, crossin’ the border?"

From behind a blank poker face, Lafayette replied, "Ain't decided, as of yet."

“Fuck, you ain’t,” Thaddeus replied, throwing Lafayette’s reins at him. “You know, I can read you through and through, so out of all of ‘n us, you could tell _moi_ the fuckin’ truth.”

Leaping in his saddle, Thaddeus glimpsed Zebidiah Collier, closing his black tally book. "Hey, Zeb, _qu’elle_ is the count?"

"Sixty-four telegraph poles, nineteen bridges, and five railroad trestles."

"And, a Red Leg hanging in a pear tree," came an off-key bit of singing from Clyde.

"Woo wee!" JT hollered, "did not realize how much mayhem we been causing."

The abrupt echoing report of a bullet made them all jerk to attention. Then throwing wild smiles to each other, they kicked their horses into a run with Clyde Massey shouting, "Sounds like somebody does not care for our handy work."

Right behind him, JT hollered back, “Do not know, Clyde, maybe it were your singin’ that upset 'em."

Once they reached high ground, Lafayette released a sharp whistle, and as one, they spun, many smiling down on the blue Militia unit spreading like ants from a hill across the open field they had abandoned.

"Never fuckin' fails to amaze _moi_ , how thick-witted they all are," Thaddeus said, and grinning ear to ear, he pulled his pommel revolvers.

Pulling his own, Lafayette shouted, "Charge!"

Foolishly, the Yankees formed a textbook straight line

With a shrill howling rebel yell spiraling into the sky, the Rangers raced down the hill, firing double-handed into the blue line. Cries of agony wafted from men and horses as a deluge of lead sliced, burrowed, and tore into all it encountered.

A wide-chested, black horse exploded into a bucking fit in the center of the line, slinging his rider to the ground. With a curse, the soldier rolled over to see a dapple-gray barreling down on him. Slapping for his revolver, he found the holster empty, and as his mouth flew open, fire belched from a large-bore muzzle, and he saw no more.

"Taddy!!"

Without thought, Thaddeus slid from his saddle to cling to Cain’s side. A bullet buzzing by so close, he swore later, he felt the heat of it. The first shot was followed by a second and a third, one of which burned Cain’s rump. The big gray reared, his forelegs striking the air as an angry scream ripped from him.

Jarred free, Thaddeus tucked into a ball, skidding and flipping across the tall grass before coming to a stop. Shaking his head, he staggered to his feet, a bullet kicking up dirt before the toes of his boots. Running backward, he jerked his Remington free.

Another bullet tugged at his pant leg.

He fired, again missing the Yankee chasing him, and a bullet dug into his right arm. In succession, he fired three more times, and the Remington was empty.

The soldier chasing jerked twice in his saddle yet kept on savagely kicking his horse, intent on running Thaddeus down.

Simultaneously, Thaddeus felt the low boom of a revolver being fired behind him. Throwing a look over his shoulder, a rush of relief spread through him at seeing it was Jackson covering him. Throwing an arm down, Jackson cried, “grab hold.”

Across the way, JT released a high-pitched yelp and floundering forward; he reined his horse around, swinging his long-barreled Colt to the man who had shot him.

The militiaman's throat erupted with a spray of crimson. For as long as it would take to count to five, he swayed in his saddle before plummeting off, his horse running on past JT.

Then Rangers were again charging for high ground.

Thaddeus’ high-pierced, lilting whistle sang out, and Cain flicked his ears chasing after Nero with his empty stirrups flapping. Soon as the stallion came up alongside, Jackson felt Thaddeus launch himself across to his horse, hollering, " _Merci_ for the pickup, Doc."

Under the dark shadows cast by trees, Lafayette scrutinized the tableau of death they had created. “You would deem, by this time, some of them Yankee officers would comprehend chasin’ us to high ground, only gives us the advantage to attack again."

"They be not much for learning.” Jimmy chuckled, “It do, surely, bring back thought of a hound we used to have. The fool just felt an uncommon need to chase wagons."

Zeb slanted his blue eyes to Jimmy, "Used to?"

"He be catching ‘em one." Jimmy winked at the quietest member of their unit, “not always be best to catch what ye be chasing."

"I would say these Yanks is a fixin' to discover that lesson, for themselves," Orville said, replacing cylinders on his revolvers.

“I agree,” Lafayette answered, and with the raising and lowering of his hand, the Rangers galloped into the bank of cordite smoke lifting from the field into the men chasing them.

Their unexpected return caught their blue-uniformed pursuers flat-footed and freshly loaded; they wove through the Federalist, dropping them from their saddles like apples hitting the ground after an early frost.

Angling for a high stand of trees, the Rangers found the terrain steeper, their horses’ muscles bulging as they surged ever upward. On topping the ridge, they turned, ready to defend their location. However, this time, there was no pursuit, only silence.

Grinning like it was a gratis night at the brothel, Orville hooted, “Hot damn, appears we might’en taught that particular set of Yanks a lesson.”

Tall in his saddle, wearing a smile full of bravado arrogance, Lafayette rode through his Rangers on seeing JT’s back drenched with blood. All his swagger dropped away as he shouted, "Doc! _Zut,_ Jackson, where are you?!”

Ramming through the bunched-up horses, Jackson leapt from Nero. "Clyde, help me get your cousin to the ground."

JT softly drawled, "Aw, I ain't so bad, Doc." Although he did not sound as confident as he might have believed.

"Does not matter,” Jackson said, pulling his saddlebags from Nero.

Noting a circle of gawkers, Lafayette snapped, “are y’all reloaded?"

Too many showed immediate signs of shame and began rapidly digging cylinders from their war tunic pockets.

It was then Thaddeus walked Cain up with his right arm draped across his waist. With the rush of battle wearing off, he was fully feeling his wound, and sliding down, he took a seat next to JT. “I could use you next, Doc.”

Lafayette was on the ground in a heartbeat, “where?”

“Do not start frettin’,” Thaddeus said, squirming his arm out of war tunic. “I only just caught _un_.”

Pulling his knife from his boot stovetop, Lafayette sliced through Thaddeus’ undershirt sleeve, revealing a lead ball trapped under the skin like a boil.

“See just barely.” Thaddeus grinned, “now, hand _moi_ _m’_ canteen.”

Grabbing it, Lafayette dropped back in a squat by his brother.

Coming up, Brody asked, “you want me to take some and check the field, Capt’?”

Lafayette looked briskly from his younger brother to Brody and nodded.

“Go with ‘em, Lafe,” Thaddeus said, his chin shiny from spilled water. “I do not need nor fuckin’ want you hoverin’ over _moi._ ”

“You sure?”

Thaddeus arched a brow.

“All right, all right,” Lafayette answered, swinging back on JR. “If’n you are loaded, follow _moi._ ” He was not surprised to find his closest pals, those he considered the core of his Ranger Unit, about him. As they never needed instructions when it came to firearms or guarding over their own well-being.

Carefully they worked their way back to the field, alert for any enemy in hiding. Only to discover, not only had they taught these Federalist a lesson, they had skedaddled from the area.

A barking cackle broke the silence, and as a group, the eleven of them turned to Fox Northrup.

“What the hell you laughin’ at?” Reed asked.

“Just thinkin’, maybe we oughta have one of them fancy flags,” Fox nodded toward where they had skirmished. “so, them tail-tucking blue-bellies would know who taught them what not to do in a battle.”

Then just as they had all looked to Fox, they swung their eyes to Lafayette.

Dryly he responded, “we are not gettin’ a flag.”


	32. Chapter THIRTY

Chapter Thirty

**Saturday 1 st of November 1862**

An unending sea of red, yellow, and orange grass stirred about the horses, whispering in the wind like voices out of hearing range. The bushy tops of the bluestem grass dappling their rumps with yellow pollen as they grazed, while within a line of cottonwoods, Thaddeus lay full length along a thick curved limb.

Standing below Thaddeus, watching the tip of the telescope swing across the fourth farm they had stopped near, Lafayette impatiently asked. "Is it the right place?"

Collapsing the telescope, Thaddeus scootched his way down the limb and jumping to the ground; he slapped the telescope in his brother’s outstretched hand, “ _oui.”_

“How many horses,” Lafayette glanced quickly to Thaddeus, then adverted his eyes, “did you leave at Sienna when you brought the herd _L'eau Sucrée_?"

“Twenty,” the word leapt from Thaddeus like a curse.

“And?”

“I counted at least _quatre_ down there _._ ”

Walking back to the Rangers, Lafayette spat in the creek they were stepping across, flatly saying, “sounds like the correct location to _moi._ ”

“You said Mike of the Red Oaks told you ‘bout seeing _chevals_ like ours in the area.”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Lafayette muttered, “yeah.”

“ _Qu’elle_ was he doin’ in this area?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Did you not ask?”

“I asked ‘bout our _chevals._ ”

“And you kept that and the fuckin’ location to yourself.”

Lafayette’s mouth pulled to the side as he avoided looking at his brother. “Only until we got here.”

“ _Chiant!_ ”

Hearing the brothers returning and bickering, the Crowe Rangers shared smiles, opting to remain lounging in the sunshine until given orders as they knew how long the brothers could argue when they got heated.

Taking up his ground tied reins, Lafayette stood in silent consideration, then said, “Auggie, Jeremiah, Rose, Sam, Eddie, Zeb, Frank, Grandville, JT, and Clyde want y’all to stay back in the trees. You come in only if’n we need back up.” It was simple to read the ten Rangers' disappointment. Lafayette glanced at JT, who was healing slowly, then to the others, “ _Apologies, garçons,_ rest of you.” He pointed toward the farm.

Their running horses crushed the tall grass, and as they flooded into the farmyard, four men wearing sidearms exited the barn. One in a plaid wool shirt strode forward, and shoving back the wide-brimmed hat he wore, demanded, “What is the meaning of this?”

With a snarl, Brody brought up his Colt, a bullet tearing into the man’s chest.

Even as his legs buckled, and the other three tore for their revolvers throwing obscenities at the Rangers, Lafayette stared disbelievingly at Brody, thinking. ‘Ain’t like ‘em to jump so fast.’

The angry whine of lead filled the small farmyard, and in seconds, the three lay splayed out dead in the dirt with the first man striving to rise.

Leaping down, Lafayette kicked him back, the revolver he had been struggling to raise, falling from his hand. Plucking it up, Lafayette was shoving it in his belt when a caterwauling came from his left. He flung up an arm at a lady in a long calico dress charging with her claws extended.

Believing he was about to strike her, she veered, her feet tangling. Her hands grasped at the air, her eyes widening as she crashed to the hardpacked ground.

Lafayette gulped, “ _Madame, mez apologies,_ ” reaching to help her.

“Do not touch me!”

Checking to ensure the wounded man was not coming for him, he offered her a hand once more. “May I assist you?”

Glaring hatefully at him, she jerked her skirt from her legs, “I need no assistance from the likes of you.” Her anger becoming tears, she crawled to her man.

The man took her clutching hand, a cough rattling his frame.

Lafayette’s eyes took in the man and the hat the man was wearing, and it struck him like cold water. ‘The _fils de pute_ is wearin’ _m’ frère,_ Gabe’s hat right down to the horsehair hatband Taddy made!’ He threw a look to Brody still on horseback, ‘ _non_ wonder he reacted so fast.’

Squatting before the couple, he bluntly asked. “Are _vous_ Streeper, Hayden, Shell, or Phelps?"

“What is it to you?” Again, the man coughed, blood wetting his lips. “Your pal has done killed me.”

“I suppose, overall, it does not matter, as _vous_ are still most certainly on our list.”

A deep frown creased the wounded man’s brow, “List? What list?”

“Those who butchered _m’ famille._ ”

The woman shrieked at Lafayette, “are you out of your mind?”

Her husband held tighter of her hand, saying, “easy, Sue. Do not push him.”

“I do not know who you are, but you are in the wrong.” She ripped a strip from her petticoat, stammering, “you…. you have killed honest men.”

His voice low and controlled, Lafayette said, “I do not believe we have.”

Folding the torn fabric, she pressed the square to the blood welling from the bullet hole. “My husband has done nothing…none of them have and you--.”

Reaching out so fast that she swallowed her words, Lafayette snatched the broad-brimmed, flat-top hat from her husband’s head. “If’n he has done nothing, why is he wearin’ _m’ frère’s…_ my brother’s hat?”

She stared open-mouthed at the dark brown hat gripped in Lafayette’s hand, then without obvious hesitation, she dropped her gaze to her husband. “Lester, you never would say where you got that hat. No matter how many times I asked.”

"So, you are Lester Phelps."

Phelps’ eyes darted to Lafayette.

“Lester??”

“ _Madame,_ he took it as a trophy after murderin’ _m’_ brother.”

Pushing her hair from her face, Sue pointedly said, “that cannot be right. Lester, you tell him he is wrong.”

Lafayette’s dark brows furrowed and jabbing behind him, he yelped, “and while you are at it, tell her how you did not steal those _chevals_ in your corral from _m’_ home.”

Sue’s face tightened, her eyes drifting to the horses, “you told me, you bought them.”

“Now, Sue, do not be listening to him.”

Her eyes roved over her husband’s face. "You did. Oh, Lester, you did…you stole them.” She looked again to the horses being lead from the corral. “…you brought this on us.”

“Let me explain.”

"Explain what?” She nodded toward Lafayette, “he knows your name."

“What he says does not matter. He is naught but Missouri trash.”

Lafayette’s soft baritone came out harsh and raspy, “Missouri trash!? _Vous_ and those you rode with came to _m’_ home to loot…” Struggling with his grief, he took a deep breath. “and burn. But that was not enough. _Non!_ Y’all tortured and hung _m’_ Father, beat Mams, raped Marie, and murdered _m’_ _frères,_ Peter, Old George, and even _m’_ sweet, innocent _bébé_ sister. And, for _qu’elle_?” Angrily he rubbed the tears that had broken free. Lunging forward, onto his knees, he screamed, “FOR WHAT?!”

The Phelps drew back, Sue’s blue eyes vivid in her white face, and Lester coughing harder, dragging in whistling breaths.

“All to satisfy your greed and…and you dare call _moi_ trash?!"

The close crack of a revolver yanked Lafayette around in time to see a big Colt Dragoon drop heavily into the yard dirt near the shaking legs of a child.

Sue howled, "Johnny!"

A stream of blood was trickling down the towheaded boy’s forearm. But still, his small hand reached for the Dragoon, and Reed Chaplin charged the boy.

All of Sue’s rage and fear emptied from her in a curdling shriek and surging to her feet; she ordered, “You keep away from my baby!"

Stamping his boot down on the Dragoon, narrowly missing Johnny’s hand, Reed snarled, “Back down, boy!"

Sue was nearly atop Reed when he lifted his revolver to her, his ordinarily cheerful voice sounding hollow, “despite the many ways I have damned myself, do not make me kill you." Squatting, his eyes on Sue, he wrapped his left hand about the Dragoon. Rising, he backed away, saying, “the boy was only sliced.” Once clear, Reed lowered his revolver, allowing Sue to sweep her crying child into her arms.

There was a sound…a movement, and on instinct, Lafayette turned, firing.

Lester Phelps fell back; a six-shot pepperbox still gripped in his hand as he exhaled. 

“ _Pour l'amour de Dieu,_ ” Lafayette muttered. Straightening to his full height, he scanned the yard, spotting Thaddeus staring at the boy he had shot, with his green eyes as large as lily pads.

" _Frère_ , go oversee the gatherin’ our _chevals.”_

Thaddeus did not respond.

“Thaddeus Robert!”

“ _Oui.”_

“Look at _moi._ ”

Slow as time moves on a winter day, Thaddeus' gaze shifted to Lafayette.

“Gather our _chevals._ ”

Thaddeus nodded.

“Reed, have the fences torn down and torch the barn."

Shepherd Pruitt and Micah Stephens stepped up, with Shepherd asking, “you want us to light the house, Capt’?"

" _Non_ , I do not wish to leave the _Madame_ without a _maison_."

"Do you believe that makes you heroic?" Sue asked, raising her chin disapprovingly. “You plead with me regarding what was done to your family and then do the same to mine.”

Lafayette bowed his head.

“You are no better. Lester was correct. The whole lot of you are trash."

“Shut your mouth, you ignorant woman!” Shepherd howled, rushing her, but Lafayette was faster, latching tight of Shepherd’s bicep.

“Heed to the manners _vous_ were taught, Shep."

Shepherd's pale eyes glinted brightly in his square face as he pondered his Captain.

“Shep?”

Shepherd briskly nodded.

Squeezing his arm once before letting go, Lafayette smiled, saying, “s _il vous plaît,_ see any forage is taken from the barn afore it is set afire.”

Slapping Lafayette on the shoulder, Shepherd ambled off to fulfill his instructions.

Motioning the others surrounding him away, Lafayette returned his attention to Sue Phelps, " _Madame,_ it is each of our rights to think _qu’elle…_ what we like.”

“In that, you are correct.” Her eyes slid to her husband, stiffening on the drive, "did you have to kill him?"

Trailing the brim of Gabriel’s hat through his fingers, Lafayette watched the flipping shadow cast by the tail of the horsehair hatband. " _Oui…_.yes, I had to. Ain’t _non_ man can be part of _qu’elle_ he did and not expect repercussions. Still, you do have _m’ apologies_ for the pain his choices brought you.” His dark eyes raised to her, “and that _, Madame,_ is more than we ever got.”

Backing away, he told Teague Hays, “Keep watch over ‘em.”

Their youngest Ranger stood tall in his boots, trying to seem bigger and older than he was, snapping, “Will do, Capt’.”

Moving through his men, Lafayette was relieved to hear none had been injured. Then at the corral, he was pleasantly surprised to discover their sorrel mare, Blood Zephyr, half of their surrey team, Highland Melody, and a pair of geldings regularly ridden by Peter, Jefferson Jubilee and Solstice Night.

“Hey, Lafe.”

Patting Jefferson, Lafayette ducked about the bay to see what his brother wanted, saying, “think I will switch _m’_ saddle to Jefferson.”

“You sure?” Thaddeus asked, leading a seventeen hand, solid built, deep red sorrel already wearing Lafayette’s saddle and gear.

“ _Feu de l'enfer_ , I had not realized Jericho got left behind."

"Gabe, would not have it any other damn way," Thaddeus answered. “Said plenty of our stallions were headed South, and he Jericho was remainin’ here.”

Lafayette extended a hand, and the horse reached out, blowing of it.

“I _jamais_ said anything, ‘cause I figured we would _jamais_ find ‘em."

The stallion stepped to Lafayette.

“Seems he recalls you.”

Handing Gabriel’s hat to Thaddeus, Lafayette stepped into his saddle.

Jericho’s muscles twitched, his haunches pulling in tight.

Recalling how each time Gabriel climbed aboard, he would scratch the stallion between his ears; Lafayette reached out doing just that.

The stallion relaxed, curling his neck until one brown eye was looking at Lafayette.

“That is, it, easy, _Garçon,_ ” Lafayette said, scratching him more, “you are back with _famille.”_

Jericho bobbed his head.

An easy laugh rolled from Lafayette, “not a _mal_ start.”

“Not at all,” Thaddeus answered absently. Studying Gabriel’s hat, his nose wrinkling, and brows lowering, he removed the riata braided horsehair hatband and tucked it in a pocket while walking to the flaming barn. Even though the words he spoke were harsh, there was a gentleness to Thaddeus’ as he flung the hat in. “Eye for an eye, Gabe, eye for an eye _._ ”

Hours and miles from the farm, Lafayette reined in alongside Orville. “ _Qu’elle_ do you deem of the mare Fox is ponying?”

“Fine lookin’ gal.”

" _De noms_ Blood Zephyr,” Lafayette said, taking a drink from his canteen. “Peter always called her Zep. She is fast, and if’n you want her, she is yours.”

Orville looked over sharp.

Lafayette shrugged. “Ought to warn you; she can get her tail twisted up and be an uppity bitch. Still, she is damn fast."

"Why, thank you, Lafayette. Me and Mike here been doin’ all right, but…” Orville patted Doniphan Phillips’ big, boned horse; he had been riding since the man’s death, his eyes going back to Zep. “By God, thank you, Lafayette.”

Perceiving his brother was sorting the recaptured stock to new riders, Thaddeus considered who would be best for Jefferson Jubilee, Solstice Night, Highland Melody. “Hey, Lafe.” When his brother looked over, Thaddeus pointed to Melody, hitching a thumb to the rear of the line.

Knowing whom he meant, Lafayette gigged Jericho over to Jackson, “let _moi_ have ‘er.” With the long-white legged mare in tow, Lafayette passed everyone pass until he turned, riding alongside Jimmy Gamble.

Jimmy smiled over brightly, "need something, Capt’."

"Not really,” Lafayette replied. “Thought I might ride with you, if’n you do not mind.”

"I not mind at all, not at all.”

Jericho threw his hip against the mare, blowing loud.

Lafayette kicked Jericho, jerking him off the mare. Grinning, he asked, “Jimmy, would you lead line ‘er.”

“Sure,” Jimmy replied. Taking the rope, he passed the mare around behind his old horse, dallying the lead to his saddle. “Ye be figuring all four of ‘em back there be on ye list?”

“Lester Phelps sure as hell was. Suspect the others were also _._ ”

Jimmy affectionately stroked the blood bay mare along her golden mane. “She sure be a pretty gal.”

“Peter was always proud of her looks.”

"She be one of the high steppers who pulled Sienna's fancy rig."

Lafayette nodded.

"Everyone always spoke what a bonny team they be."

" _Oui,_ they were. Her full _nom_ is Highland Melody, and her pacing partner was Lowland Song." Lifting his hat, Lafayette shoved his bangs back, his gaze drifting across the landscape. "Suppose Song is out there somewhere." Resetting his hat, he cleared his throat. “How old is George?"

With a soft grin, Jimmy rolled his eyes, patting his horse, "George been with me since I be a wee lad."

“Pair of’n you are always tail last anywhere we go,” Lafayette said, ignoring the frown digging into the corners of Jimmy’s mouth. “You have always been _bonne_ to George.”

“That I have, she be my girl.”

“But she is tired.” Lafayette looked across at his pal, “ain’t she?”

Jimmy slowly nodded.

“I would be pleased if’n you would take over Mel, for us."

Jimmy plucked at George’s mane.

“Mel is truly a _doux fille,_ and I believe you would be gentle with her...” Lafayette turned earnest eyes on his pal, “…like she deserves."

"I would."

“So, you will take her.”

“What about George?”

“Let ‘er run with the herd.” Lafayette reined Jericho in, as the stallion was starting to walk faster, “But Jimmy, I fret George will not be able to remove you from a tight situation, _une_ day when you need ‘er too.”

Jimmy nodded.

“Think on it and let _moi_ know.”

Jimmy just nodded again.

Feeling he might like to be left alone to think, Lafayette gave Jericho his head. As they passed forward through the Unit, he saw Zebidiah was leading Jube, and Micah had Solstice. Settling in alongside Thaddeus, Lafayette grinned tightly over at him, “counting ours, we have a dozen of the Sienna Stable here.”

“ _Feu de l'enfer_ , at this rate, we all are goin’ to be the best mounted Rangers in the State.”

“That we are,” Lafayette answered, raising an arm. He whistled, letting his arm drop. The Unit took off east at a flowing gallop, the grass swishing past their horses, leaving streaming flattened trails of their passing.


	33. Chapter THIRTY-ONE

Chapter Thirty-One

**Tuesday 17 th of November 1862**

“Ah, hell!”

At Rance’s oath, Thaddeus surged up, pistol in hand, the leaves which blanketed him in the night, creating humped piles on either side of his bedroll. Looking from one pile to the other, his brow furrowed, “ _Par Dieu, qu’elle_ happened?”

Stomping on his boots, Rance answered, “a hard frost.”

The Rangers stared in shock at the leaves, pattering down around them so fast; they were plushly carpeting the ground with gentle tapping sounds.

Coming in from sentry duty, Moses Judd squatted by their low banked fire, ‘started around three, saw no reason to wake anyone.”

A frown twisted Lafayette’s face, the leaves falling within the fire ring withering before the hot coals he was stirring to life. Raising tired eyes, he passed around a half-hearted smile, “ _Mes apologies, garçons.”_

“It not be your fault,” Jimmy answered.

Pouring water in the coffee pot, Lafayette said, “Winter seemed to be holdin’ back this year.” He frowned at the leaves, “Hell, most of these ain’t even changed color yet, and after all, we suffered in Arkansas last winter; I was hopin’ to find a Unit intent on _bivouacking_ in the Territories.”

“We all knew that” JT paused to yawn, “knew it was why you pointed us south.”

Dumping coffee grinds in the pot, Lafayette waved at the falling leaves. “Now, we are goin’ to need to clear out and fast.” He shook his head, “Anyone got any plans?”

Bill Carr answered, “Just to keep followin’ ya.”

“For the record…” a twisted grin brightened Lafayette’s face, “ _qu’elle_ I know of the Territories amounts to _zéro._ ”

“Hellfire, Zeb, get out your ledger book,” Reed Chaplin chortled, “jot down Lafayette Henri Begnoir-Crowe, before us, and God almighty admitted he did not know something.”

“Say it ain’t so?” Clyde chimed in, “I feel downright wrecked.”

Wade Morrow sniggered, “And, here you having so consistently illuminated us with your pure genius, I believed you knew the answer to all God put before us.”

“Ain’t they right. Now, _vraiment_ fuckin’ admittin’ you are ignorant of something?” Thaddeus snorted with laughter, “that just cannot be true!”

Black eyes rose, to the men around him, and squinting at Reed, Lafayette said, “There are times, for your sake, it is damn _bonne_ we have been pals so long.”

Reed responded with a wink and a grin that went from one ear clear across to the other.

After a scant breakfast, they were in their saddles as a cold drizzle began. It kept on throughout the day, so by late afternoon, all of them were blue-lipped and shaking.

Kicking Jefferson into a trot, Zebidiah Collier streamed past others to catch the front riders. “Capt’ there is a gulch, back there, filled with red cedars. They would give us cover and hide smoke so we all could have a fire.”

Gesturing to the bare trees they were passing under, Lafayette said, “We got daylight left, and we would do best to keep movin’.” Twisting in his saddle to face those following him, his breath clouded about him as he spoke. “ _Très désolé, garçons_ , perhaps further down the road another, even better option will show its self.”

Much later, with the purple twilight gathering and the rain forming into a layer of ice along their clothing, the Rangers stood clumped together in stirrup high frozen grass before the dark boxes of a homestead.

Jericho shook himself, the jangle of his tack sounding loud in the gathering gloom, and Lafayette said, “Gid take Carr, see when the barn was used last. If’n it appears safe, let go a whistle.” Looking to his left, he nodded to his brother, “if’n they do, you and Wade investigate the house.”

Up and down the line, a weary tension could be felt in increasing darkness as they waited with their hands holding frigid revolvers—weary and lost in their thoughts, several spooked when Gideon Barnett’s sharp whistle cut through the quiet.

Sliding down, Thaddeus and Wade crept away.

The tension continued to build until it pressed about them like a wet wool blanket. When an all-clear whistle came from the house, Lafayette released his first sincere smile of the day, “all right, shall we get our _chevals_ and ourselves out of this damned wet.”

There was a collected chorus of agreements, and they promptly headed for the barn.

With the horses stamping and snorting at the stale air, Lafayette stiffly slid from Jericho, rubbing his long-ago injured knee. The cold had made it ache increasingly as the day had drug by, same as it had for the bullet wound, he had taken last winter. Using his teeth, he tugged off his wet gloves, digging a leather pouch from a pocket. “JT light that lantern hangin’ behind you.”

Removing his deck of cards from the pouch, Lafayette fanned them face down. “Six lowest cards have the _honneur_ of beddin’ with the _chevals_.”

Waving a finger back and forth across the spread, Gideon chose, flipping over a two of clubs. Releasing a mirthless chuckle, he croaked, “Damn it!”

Lafayette said, “ _désolé,_ Gid,” extending the cards for others to choose. By the end, Gideon held all the chosen cards knowing Samuel Tunney, Zebidiah Collier, Clyde Massey, Buster McKenzie, and Lafayette would be joining him in the barn.

Slapping Buster on the back, Orville Riggs cackled, “ain’t a lick of straw in sight, y’all sleep well.”

Buster clenched his jaws, turning on Orville.

Dropping an arm about the freckle-faced boy’s shoulders, Lafayette snugged him back with a flashing a roguish grin. “ _Doux Jésus,_ did y’all not hear _moi_ say the _honneur_. The six of’n us are goin’ be comfy as fat puppies when our herd warms this space.” Reaching over with a chuckle, he thumped Orville on the chest. “Y’all enjoy the cold _maison_.”

“We will,” Valentine McCane replied in his snide way, his gaped tooth smile appearing. “It will be plenty warm once we get the chimney roarin’ hot.”

Casting him an annoyed glance, Rance drawled, “we ain’t gonna be buildin’ no fire.”

“Why not?”

Jonathon Workman turned to Valentine, the thick white scar that disfigured one side of his face reflecting in the lamplight. “Apparently rest of’n us have the sense to know smoke on a night like this, would be like a lighthouse beacon invitin’ others in.”

Valentine bristled, bolting forward.

Orville elbowed him in the chest, setting him back. “Here now, we ain’t gonna have none of that.”

“Just goin’ to show the skinny son-of-a-bitch his place,” Valentine McCane snarled, his eyes flashing snake mean.

His voice iron-hard, Lafayette said, “Jon already knows his place. He is a Crowe Ranger, just like _vous_.” Stepping into Valentine, he backed him up step by step. “As I have said afore, if’n _vous_ feels _vous_ cannot acquiesce with _vous_ fellow Rangers feel fuckin’ free to ride on out.”

The pair stood toe to toe, each unblinking.

“I am in _non_ mood to fuckin’ deal with any _merde_ this night _._ So, _qu’elle_ is it to be, Valentine?”

Turning his face from Lafayette, Valentine walked to his horse and began unsaddling.

Swinging around to the rest, who had silently watched the swift battle of wills, Lafayette asked, “Anyone else?!”

Heads were shaken, here and there grunted, “noes.”

Forcing out a lifeless smile, Lafayette nodded, “Then see to your _chevals_ and get some rest.”

Deep in the night, Zebidiah inched over, laying a hand across Lafayette’s right forearm.

Battle honed impulses had Lafayette jerking on his LeMat, and Zebidiah’s grip tightened, restraining him, “Shh, Capt’, it is Zeb, and there are horses in the drive.”

Gideon sat up, softly grousing, “damnation, I was dreamin’; I was in the arms of a warm, soft, warm gal.” Pulling on his boots and taking up his rifle, he glided to the barn door with Clyde right behind him.

“Suppose _une_ night of sleep indoors is too much to ask for,” Lafayette complained, pulling on his boots, and when he stood, he saw Buster still sound asleep, rolled up like a tick in his quilt, and he booted him in the backside.

The boy jumped, gulping, “What? What?”

“Hush…we got unwanted _visiteurs._ Y’all get the _chevals_ behind the _maison._ ” Then tugging his hat low, Lafayette slipped from the barn into the slushy rain pattering across the frozen ground.

Squatting at the side of the house’s back door, Lafayette turned the knob, swinging the door open. Inside, a hammer ratcheted, and by the speed of its occurrence, he knew it was Thaddeus. “ _Frère Cadet.”_

“Fuck, Lafe! You tryin’ to get yourself shot?”

Creeping inside, he whispered, “Hush, we got company.”

“Well, fuck,” and at that exact moment came a sharp knock upon the front door.

Leaping up, Fox Northrup flung the door open, latching hold of the man on the stoop, he pulled him inside, slamming the door shut. “Got ‘em.”

“ _Jésus a pleuré,_ he ain’t alone.” Lafayette hissed, “why the hell did you bring ‘em in?”

From the darkness, Fox squeaked, “seemed like the thing to do.”

A struggle commenced on that side of the room, along with a disgruntled high-pitched voice demanding, “Unhand me!”

Followed by Fox’s reply of, “keep on, and I will empty your damn head.”

And, just like that, the scuffling ceased.

Yet, out on in the yard, someone urgently called, “Buckley? Buckley, what is going on?”

In his dry, quiet way, Rance stated, “Thinkin’ they might have noticed ‘em missin’.”

Exhaling roughly, Lafayette grunted, “ _Christ sur une Croix,_ all y’all grab your gear.”

“Private Buckley?” a deep-voiced man shouted, “where are you?!” Worse, there was the sound of ice crunching beneath the soles of approaching boots.

Lafayette softly called, “Frank, pass _moi_ a whiskey bottle afore you leave.”

“What makes you think I have a bottle?” Franklin Willis replied.

“Only time you ain’t got _une_ is when you have drunk it dry, pass _moi une_.”

There was a bit of under the breath grumbling, and Franklin could be heard foraging in his bags. Crawling over, he handed Lafayette the cold bottle. “You should know that is my last.”

_“_ Then _merci beaucoup_ from all of ’n us,” Lafayette replied, removing the cork, letting it fall to the floor as he shoved his neck kerchief down the bottle’s neck.

Trying better to see, in the leaden darkness, Reed edged closer. “What are you doing?”

“Makin’ an incendiary bottle to create a diversion.”

“Humph, ain’t you clever.”

“Might be because I _know_ a thing or _deux_ despite _qu’elle_ you alluded to this morn’. We are slipping out the back, where our _chevals_ waitin’.” Saying a quick prayer, Lafayette thought, ‘I hope.’ Reed took a step to move away, and Lafayette grabbed his forearm. “Not you, smart arse _,_ you are with _moi_.”

“Hey, Capt’,” Fox hissed, “What do I do with him?”

Walking over, Lafayette took the soldier’s arm, twisting it up behind his back until a gritted moan slipped from the man. “Go on and get, Fox.”

Reed struck a match, illuminating the room, along with their prisoner, and Lafayette’s eyes widened. “ _Par Dieu,_ what are you twelve?”

Indignation sharpened in the soldier’s youthful face.

“Well, does not matter,” Lafayette said, throwing the door open and launching the boy through. As luck would have it, he crashed headlong into four Federals climbing the steps.

The batch of them tangled, tripped, sprawling across the yard.

Darting out, Reed tossed the lit bottle after them, a brilliant ball of flame whooshing into the air when it hit, further adding to the overall confusion.

Lafayette and Reed raced out the backdoor, where Brody stood alone, holding their horses. Leaping aboard, they released shrill rolling rebel yells and took out after their pals across the farmstead’s back forty.

Beyond the weedy, untended fields, the terrain sloped sharply down, and their horses slid and jolted to the bottom, where their shadowy forms blended with the bare trees, allowing them to disappear into the desolate night.

By mid-morning, the Rangers were on a deserted road, all of them frozen to their saddles, having traveled miles of woodlands through intermittent sleet, they now stood before a sign reading ‘ten miles to Pineville.’

Recalling from the many maps he studied that Pineville was on the State's southernmost edge, Lafayette unconsciously made the sign of the cross, whispering, ‘ _merci beaucoup, Dieu.’_

At his side, Jackson said, “amen.”

Grinning at his friend, Lafayette said, “perhaps we can harbor there in Pineville, for a time, afore ridin’ for the Territories.’


	34. Chapter THIRTY-TWO

Chapter Thirty-Two

**Monday 2 nd of March 1863**

The sun shone bright, creating black shadow stripes across Pineville’s boardwalks that echoed hollowly beneath Orville’s boots as he strolled along, saying. “Gettin’, so it ain’t so cold.” He unbuttoned his coat. “Buds are goin’ start poppin’ on the trees. Bettin’ your brother’s goin’ to have us back on the warpath soon.” Removing his flask from his vest pocket, he took a swig. “Why again, we got to check in with ‘em?”

Pushing his hat, so it fell down his back on its stampede strings, Thaddeus peered up at Orville, who towered over him. “Did not get to see him before _m’_ sentry duty.”

Spinning the lid back on, Orville tucked his flask in a pocket. “Ya, realize he will be over to the Staghorn later.”

“Just want to check in, is fuckin’ all.”

“Humph, well, you goin’ to make it quick,” Orville asked, scratching of his chest. “Why I was chosen to be yoked to you as my harness mate, I cannot figure.”

“Well, go fuckin’ on to the Staghorn without _moi_.”

“Cannot!” Orville shook his head, “you, Taddy, are my anvil to tote.”

“Fuckin’ loathe, how Lafe has _une_ of y’all…” Thaddeus flicked a hand toward Orville, “tailin’ _moi_ and _m’_ pals.”

“Ya think we enjoy it?”

“Ain’t _m’_ fuckin’ fault, y’all…”

Rolling his eyes, Orville shoved Thaddeus, sending him windmilling. “By Golly, it is too your fault.”

Squaring up to Orville, who was not only double his size but also had years on him, Thaddeus blurted, “How you figure that?”

“Ya got a damn short memory. It was ya and the other pups---”

“I ain’t no fuckin’ pup! C _hiant,_ I will be twenty, afore this month is over.”

“Be that as it may, Taddy----”

Thaddeus’ face flashed red, making his vivid green eyes twice as bright as he hotly demanded. “And cease callin’ _moi_ , Taddy. I keep tellin’ all y’all old men, who rode with Gabe, it is TAD. _Zut!_ I ain’t _non_ pup any longer to be answerin’ to a child’s _nom!_ ”

Orville released a braying laugh and shook his head, “Old men, huh? We will see how old ya feel my pals are, after they have words with ya.” Shaking his head again, Orville went on speaking. “Anyway, _Taddy,_ it was ya pack of _pups_ who caused that ruckus downright upsettin’ Sherriff Rory. And it was ya brother, the Captain who declared…. ‘ _vous_ most certainly require watchin’ over.’”

Wrinkling his nose, Thaddeus shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “So, why the fuck, you in such a hurry to get to the Staghorn anyways?”

Orville chuckled warmly, relishing having won another round against Thaddeus.

It was one of many he had won this past winter. For it had been the younger Rangers who took a notion, late one night, to set up a cockfighting ring on the Court House lawn. Needless to say, it was not long before their ribald drunken shouting and the squawking roosters woke the town.

Sherriff Rory was spitting mad to the point of wanting to run out every Ranger hibernating in Pineville. Their reprieve had taken the Captains’ sincere promises of no further difficulties, and together they had covered hefty fines. Especially regarding the roosters that the boys had eloquently claimed as ‘having been emancipated from their coop prisons.’

Lafayette promptly paired each of his trouble makers to an elder Ranger, with Orville receiving Thaddeus. However, as the weeks scrolled by, Orville had taken a shine to the younger Crowe, enjoying his spitfire mettle, and even more, poking him until he got Thaddeus squalling mad.

“If’n ya must know, Taddy, I plan on seein’ if’n Molly Sue is free for a rumble upstairs.”

Thaddeus’ crooked grin appeared.

“Ya must be considerin’ that dark-eyed Hildy; ya seem to have a persistent need to copulate with?”

Thaddeus’ mouth popped open and sliding to a halt; he stared up at Orville. “Copulate?! _Zut_ , Orville, that sure makes it sound wrong.”

Laughing warmly, Orville wrapped an arm about Thaddeus’ shoulders, getting him walking again. As they turned the corner into the residential neighborhood, he matter-of-factly said. “No, Taddy, what is wrong, is the amount of time I spend drinkin’ and playin’ cards waitin’ on you.” He arched a brow at the younger boy, grinning like a happy hound.

Thaddeus’ tongue darted across his lower lip, “waitin’ for me to--”

“Finish copulatin’.”

Squirming free, Thaddeus walked faster, red flowing across his ears and on down the back of his neck.

“What ya blushin’ for? Ain’t a man visits the Staghorn, who does not know who ya preferred ride is.”

Trying to shake off his embarrassment, Thaddeus grumped, “ _B_ _onne…_ then they all know to steer clear of ‘er.”

“That what you think, Pup?” Orville popped him on the back, causing Thaddeus to stumble. “Hellfire, she ain’t singled ya out that gal beds plenty of others.”

Thaddeus glared over as friendly as a grizzly who lost its dinner.

“Hell, Taddy Pup, maybe you ain’t enough for ‘er,” Orville said, breaking into another fit of robust laughter.

Thaddeus’ shoulders hunched up about his ears.

“Nope,” Orville ruefully shook his head. “I ain’t heard nuthin’ of her speakin’ of you bein’ so special. Have ya?”

There was no response; Thaddeus’ eyes remained on the cobblestones passing beneath his feet as he walked.

The absolute hung dog expression he wore gave Orville an itch of regret, “what I mean is, maybe, she ain’t makin’ enough off you…alone.”

Thaddeus grumbled, “she should be, with the bankroll I have forked over.”

Orville grinned maliciously, “she busted ya bank?”

Thaddeus glanced over, speeding up.

Staying in stride with him, Orville jeered, “She did! That is why ya need to _check in_ with Lafayette.”

“Lay off, Orville!”

“Come on, how much ya spent?”

Thaddeus walked faster.

Extending his legs, Orville stepped in front of him, blocking Thaddeus’ progress. “Sweet Christmas, Taddy Pup, how much Hildy been chargin’ ya’?”

Keeping his eyes locked on the cobblestones, Thaddeus mumble, “ _trois_ a go.”

Orville’s tongue darted across his lower lip. He opened his mouth and closed it.

Curious at his silence, Thaddeus peeked up to see a look of stupefaction spreading across Orville’s face. His own crimsoned all over again. Stepping to the side, he took off in a walk so fast he was almost trotting.

Half a block up, Thaddeus stopped, and opening the little ornate gate of Mildreth Amber’s yard, hurried inside.

In the center of Amber’s scrupulously kept piece of land stood a two-and-a-half story, pale lavender home. A covered porch encircled it, with one corner extending into the lawn as a circular cupola. It was here at The Amber Boarding House, Thaddeus had spent the winter with his brother, Orville, and a handful of other Rangers.

Coming through the gate, Orville asked, “what the hell does she do for three dollars?”

Spinning on him, his eyes wide, Thaddeus squealed, “Orville!!”

“It is two-bit for a go with any gal at the Staghorn, lessen ya stay all-night then it is a dollar, and I rightly know you do not stay all night.”

The fingers of Thaddeus’ left-hand twitched.

“What ya gonna do, Taddy Pup, shoot me?”

“Fuckin’ thinkin’ on it.”

“No, you ain’t, and we both know it,” Orville replied, wrapping an arm about Thaddeus, his booming laughter spreading over the yard as he reeled him in. “Damnation, she is shakin’ ya down. Did not realize part of watchin’ over ya was lessoning ya in the ways of ceiling experts.”

“I do not need _non_ damn lessons,” Thaddeus snarled, fighting to wriggle free of Orville’s stranglehold.

Shouting, “Hey, Lafayette!” Orville strode across the yard, with Thaddeus in tow, to the cupola where he had no doubt, they would find Lafayette in a rocking chair with his boots kicked up on the railing.

While in Pineville, Lafayette had let it be known, he would purchase newspapers from ‘59 forward that were brought to him. Consequently, each day, until afternoon, he could be found reading with a pot of coffee and an ashtray full of butts at his feet, just as he was now.

Almost to the cupola, Orville barked, “ya just ain’t gonna believe what I worked out of the Pup, here.”

His words half-muffled as he wormed out from beneath Orville’s arm, Thaddeus roar, “ _vraiment_ fuckin’ considerin’ shootin’ you fuckin’ now.”

Quietly, Lafayette responded, “y’all lower your voices and pack in the language, Taddy.” His flat tone having more impact than yelling would.

Orville grimaced, glancing at the front door, hoping Mrs. Amber had not heard them, and with Thaddeus having escaped, he reached out, latching hold of his collar, dragging him the rest of the way to the cupola’s steps. “Still, you gotta hear what I learned.”

Laying the paper, he had been reading in his lap, Lafayette’s black eyes met Orville.

‘Oh, Hell. He is damn angry.’ Orville thought, pulling up short. ‘No, not angry, I would say more like enraged.’ Releasing Thaddeus, he put a boot on the lowest step and dropping his forearms across his thigh. He solemnly asked, “what has happened?”

Picking up the paper, Lafayette handed it over, its headline screaming ‘PALMYRA MASSACRE!!!’

Thaddeus leaned in close, and together, he and Orville read.

‘Colonel W.R. Strachan ordered ten prisoners, only three of whom were known to be Partisan Rangers, to be taken to the Palmyra fairgrounds; among them were an elderly man and a feeble-minded boy. The prisoners were ordered to sit on coffins laid out in a line. A few minutes past one o’clock, Colonel Strachan shook their hands, offering blindfolds, which two prisoners accepted. On his command, a firing squad of thirty stepped forward. These thirty men's aim was neither true nor simultaneous, and alas, only two of the rebel prisoners died instantly. The other seven writhed on the ground until reserves arrived, discharging them like wounded beasts.’

Crumpling the paper, Orville threw it from him, “straight out butchery.”

Thaddeus' face was pale as fresh fallen snow, his eyes darting to each of the older men.

“Damn the man! That was murder.” Ripping his hat off, Orville scrubbed at his scalp through his thick, shaggy brown hair. “Nothing but savage cruelty.”

Running his steepled fingers down the bridge of his nose, Lafayette inhaled deeply. “Trampled all over the Bill of Rights, shooting those men without a trial, not even a drumhead _une_ , left it all up to the discretion of _une_ officer.”

Finding his voice, Thaddeus snarled, “What the fuck are we goin’ to do?”

“Ain’t nothing we can do. This happened last March.” Lafayette replied, slanting his eyes to his brother. “ _Qu’elle,_ I know for certain is,” he dropped his feet to the porch floor with a thud. “None of us want to be captured…not at any cost.” He pointed to the paper lying against the table leg. “Not if’n, that is awaitin’ us.”

Stepping up on the porch, Orville flipped through the other papers, scanning headlines, “If’n any Southern officer had done this, the Federals would be screamin' for the whole world to know, but I do not see that here.”

“Neither did I.”

Taking a seat on the railing before his brother, Thaddeus removed a half-smoked cigar from his hatband. Lighting it, he inhaled deeply of the sweet, pungent tobacco, exhaling a blue-gray cloud into the breeze, so it floated off across the yard.

Studying his younger brother’s profile, Lafayette felt his insides flip over, and it was the first time, in some while, he had felt them do so. It was because he did not ever want to see Thaddeus or any of his men in such a predicament. The whole idea made him feel sick. “Give _moi_ a smoke.”

Orville looked from Lafayette to Thaddeus, who was staring vacantly at a pair of robins skipping through the grass. Digging his tin of cigarillos from his pocket with a sigh, Orville removed one for himself, handing one to Lafayette. Laying the tin on the table, Orville glanced at Lafayette and moved the tin to the railing as he dug for a match.

Seeing him do so, Lafayette’s brows furrowed over the smoke he was lighting.

Orville shrugged, striking his match across the heel of Lafayette’s boot, dangling before him, across his Captain’s bent knee. “Ain’t any of’n us, unaware how blatantly ya will appropriate smokes left within ya reach.”

Picking a bit of tobacco from his lip, Lafayette replied, “I deem, I ain’t as _mal_ as all that.”

“Believe what ya want,” Orville answered.

“I will,” Lafayette replied, dragging on the cigarillo until the end glowed red. Dropping his boot back to the floor, he stretched out his long legs, crossing his ankles. “Appears to _moi_ , we Rangers are seriously upsettin’ the sleep of the Federalist echelon. Read several reports of more troops being shipped in from Iowa, Colorado, and Illinois to hunt us.” He flicked his dark eyes to Orville, “and they plan to have all of’em live off the land.”

Pinching the fire from the stub of his cigar, Thaddeus muttered, “Fuckin’ grand. Those _bâtards_ are gonna make folks, even more, damn wary of us.” Dropping the cigar in the ashtray, he rubbed of his face and, when finished, reached for the cigarillo tin balanced on the railing.

Smacking his hand atop it, Orville shook his head at Thaddeus, deliberately tucking his smokes in his vest pocket.

Watching them, the corner of Lafayette’s mouth quirked, and he stood, gripping his brother’s shoulder. “I feel like some whiskey, y’all for joinin’ _moi_.”

Thaddeus hopped up, “I am _toujours_ for a shot of whiskey.”

“Ya gonna need more than a shot when I tell my pals ‘bout ya callin’ them, old men.” Orville said, winking at Lafayette, “I suppose that puts ya in the same category.”

Lafayette slanted an eye to Thaddeus, “old men, are we?”

With a shrug, Thaddeus trotted down the steps.

“You might ‘en also want to know,” Orville said, walking along with Lafayette, “the Pup has been payin’ Hildy three dollars a go.”

Hearing him, Thaddeus spun about on his boot heels, exclaiming, “Orville!!”

Lafayette snorted, once and loudly, shaking his head at Thaddeus. “Damn fine, I have you watchin’ over ‘em, if’n he can fall for such a load of complete deception.”

Thaddeus moaned with disbelief, “Lafe?”

“Want me to lesson ‘em.”

A barking laugh burst from Lafayette, “not so sure ‘bout that. But ya might ‘en protect him, some, when your pals come to chat with ‘em ‘bout callin’ them ‘old men.’”

“I do not need anyones protection _,_ ” Thaddeus said flatly and arrogantly, turning and opening the gate. “And I ain’t talkin’ to either of you.”

“Well, boy howdy, that would be just fine.” Orville chuckled, “what ya think, Capt’?”

“Fine with _moi,_ too.”

Thaddeus stormed down the walk ahead of them.

“Bet he comes talkin’ to _moi_ ‘bout the time he needs his whiskey paid for.”

Orville bumped against Lafayette, “Or when he requires Hildy’s three dollars.”


	35. Chapter THIRTY-THREE

Chapter Thirty-Three

Lafayette grinned like a dog who knew the smokehouse door was open.

" _Zut_ , Lafe!” Thaddeus slammed a trio of aces on the tabletop, “I rightly know you ain't cheatin', but well, fuck!"

Orville frowned, "What he said."

"Damnation, Capt'," Shepherd Pruitt grumbled, "That is seven times runnin’."

Gideon dolefully watched Lafayette sweep in his winnings, "Do ya not feel, even a mite bad for takin’ so much off 'n us."

" _Non_ ," Lafayette replied, taking a sip of his whiskey. "It was y'all who thought it would be grand to play dollar poker. And it was _moi_ who informed y'all; you did not want to play that way with _moi_.” Sorting his take into neat piles, he gestured to their empty glasses.” Furthermore, I also warned y'all not to drink too much, ‘cause if ‘n you did, I would clean the floor with you."

Shepherd Pruitt rubbed his knuckles.

Lifting an eye to him, Lafayette casually said, "If'n I was you, Shep, I would take what little of your roll you got left and find other diversions."

"But Capt’, you ain't leavin' me enough to live on."

"Ah, _Christ sur un chariot,_ ain't I the one who keeps y’all in feed?"

Kicking his chair back, Shepherd snagged his whiskey glass, downed it, and left.

Fox also stood, “Capt’, remind me in the future _not_ to play poker with you.” Laying a hand on Thaddeus’ shoulder, he leaned in closer, bouncing his three remaining silver dollars in his hand. “tell me, again, what is that gal’s name.”

Shrugging him off, Thaddeus saluted him with his middle finger, his eyes riveting on Orville, “damn your hide.”

Orville passed Thaddeus a wink, “ya just _amour_ me, I know ya do.”

“Yeah, I will be the _une_ bringin’ flowers and weepin’ over your fuckin’ grave.”

Orville’s sloppy hound dog smile broke free, and he popped Thaddeus across the back.

A pair of men, with the beginnings of gray at their temples, stepped up to their table. The taller one wearing a dark broadcloth suit cleared his throat. "Mind if we join?"

Lafayette motioned to the empty chairs. "It is a dollar ante."

Filling a pair of seats, they each laid a stack of bills before them.

Eyeing his pals still at the table, Lafayette asked, "Y'all stickin’ with it?"

Orville nodded, "Hell, yes, I plan on bestin’ ya at ya game."

"You can try," Lafayette answered, the pasteboards spinning and dropping as he cut the deck one-handed.

“I ain’t leaving, _Frère_ , ‘cause I rightly know you will not let _moi_ fuckin’ starve."

“Thought you were not speakin’ to _moi?_ ”

Thaddeus’ nose wrinkled.

Shuffling the cards more, Lafayette winked at Orville, “Hey, _Petit Frère_ , you should know I ain’t payin’ for your three-dollar pokes.”

Thaddeus' face went white, and he twisted to Orville.

"Hey!” Gideon barked, “We gonna play or sit here chatterin’ like hens?"

Lifting his whiskey glass, Orville toasted Gideon, "Looks to be Gid's ready to hand over more of his funds to ya, Capt’.”

The tall man who had spoken for the pair of strangers abruptly shifted in his chair, his eyes bulging at the ratcheting click of Thaddeus' Remington.

"I was just fixing to remove my coat." He said, his terrified eyes locked on the gaping end of the barrel staring at him.

His friend, who was smaller and toted one heavy, black eyebrow, swallowed hard, "uhm, this might not be the game for us."

Pushing the Remington down with one of his meaty hands, Orville said, “Ah, do not be frettin’. We all are a right friendly bunch." He nodded toward Thaddeus, who was holstering his revolver. "Taddy's just a tad jumpy, is all." Hearing what he said, Orville hooted, slapping the table. "Taddy's a tad jumpy. HO! I gotta remember that one."

"Oh, fuckin' joyous," Thaddeus groaned, holding up his empty beer mug, hollering, “Peggy.”

Laying the deck down, Lafayette said, "Newcomers deal." However, his hand remained atop the deck. "First, I have _deux…_ two questions."

Sitting straighter, Gideon blurted, "I got this, Capt’." Turning his blue-gray eyes on the man to his right, he asked, "What side is ya on?" and looking to the other. "And, where y'all hail from?"

The strangers considered the men they had sat down with, attired in their four-pocket shirts, intricately embroidered with flowers, horses, and birds in flight, then how they were teeming with pistols. At length, the smaller, more nervous man to Gideon’s left answered, "The South and Little Rock."

Having failed to get Peggy’s attention, Thaddeus plunked his mug on the table. "Bit far from home, ain't you?"

The tall one grunted, “What is it to you?”

His sharp tone drew all eyes, and a subtle sheen of sweat appeared on the shorter man’s face. Taking a breath, he, softly, said, "I think--"

Interrupting him, Lafayette said, "I think we should play poker. And Gid, _merci,_ however, those were not _m’_ questions."

Gideon tilted his head, "Oh!"

"Not _mal unes_ , though." Lafayette nodded, “mine are. _Qu’elle…_ what shall we call you and might ‘en, I buy y'all a drink?"

Both men's eyebrows rose.

The larger man answered, "Ned, and I will surely let you buy me a beer."

Lafayette glanced to his right.

"Walt Seymour and I will also have a beer."

Removing his hand from the deck, Lafayette set his fingers to his lips producing a high-pierced whistle before shouting, "Peggy, _chère,_ bring a round of beers."

The night crawled on as the pasteboards circled the table. During that first hour of play, Lafayette reined himself in, even letting Orville and Thaddeus win a game each, on the sly. Yet, during the last round, he made them all sweat by relentlessly bumping the bid.

In the end, it was Gideon who gleefully raked in the pot with a chuckle. “Hellfire, Lafayette, ya can feel sorry for me any damn time ya want."

"How do you know,” Lafayette cocked an eyebrow at him, “I did not have the cards to back _m’_ bet?"

"Saw something, _once_ , when ya looked my way.”

"Ya put all ya had on that?" Orville asked.

"Yep, and 'cause, I was holdin’ four ladies.” Gideon spat in the brass tureen by his chair. “Ain't no man givin' up on four ladies."

Thaddeus shook his head with a cynical look. _"Parfois, je ne comprends vraiment et vraiment pas votre pensée, Lafe. **[1]**_ _._ "

" _Cela prouve que vous ne me connaissez pas aussi bien que vous aimez vous vanter._ _ **[2]**_"

Orville bellowed, "Jerusalem’s Crickets!” Punching Thaddeus in the arm so hard, he just about knocked him from his chair. “Frenchy talk ain’t allowed at the table. Y’all both know that. It ain't right, and it ain't fair!"

Righting himself, Thaddeus came up with his fists balled.

"Uh-Uh, Taddy!” Orville shook his head, “If'n ya know what is best for ya health, ya will pass that on to ya brother.” Orville’s gray eyes switched to Lafayette, “If’n I could reach ‘em, I would lay one on ’em also, as he _should_ damn-well know better!"

Liking the idea, Thaddeus swung around to his brother.

But found Lafayette facing him with a down-right, serious expression. Nevertheless, Thaddeus' crooked grin crept free, the same one which always got him in trouble.

One brow arched sharply, and Lafayette ever so quietly said, "I know where you sleep."

The grin got bigger.

"Think hard on it, _Frère Cadet._ "

The green eyes squinted. Then with a frown, Thaddeus opted instead to finish his drink.

As he shuffled, Lafayette eyed his brother, and when he began dealing, decided he was done playing nice.

Thaddeus’ eyes darted back and forth across the cards he held.

Studying him, from the corner of his eye, Lafayette decided, 'he has _deux_ separate pairs and is tryin’ to decide if’n he should risk _un_ or _trois_ cards. And, by the way, Orville’s nostrils are flaring he is deliberating on bluffin’.'

Next, he shifted his attention to Ned, 'Him, I ain't fully figured out. Way he taps the corner of his cards is a tell; just ain't played ‘em long enough to break it down. Gid has his cards stacked on the table, but he is keepin’ his hand near to protect what he feels is a good spread.'

Shifting his eyes to Walt, Lafayette saw him sitting tall in his chair. 'He must have a good hand. Straighter he sits, the better his cards have been.'

With a cocky grin, Thaddeus started the bid at five dollars.

Orville threw his cards into the pot with a grunt.

A rude snort erupted from Thaddeus.

"Let that be all, Taddy Pup.” Orville snarled, “I ain't pounded anyone in weeks, and I am missin’ the feel of it."

Ned matched the bid, saying, “and, another seven to make it interesting.”

Rubbing his palm, once, across his stacked cards, Gideon added the twelve dollars.

Walt fidgeted, then added his bet.

Tossing his in, Lafayette looked right at his brother, "You decide _un_ or _duex_?"

Thaddeus brows bunched as he discarded one.

“ _Bonne fortune,”_ Lafayette said, passing him his card.

"How the fuck do you always know what I am holdin’?"

"Ask _moi_ a night when I am blind drunk, and perhaps, I will tell you."

"You _jamais_ get that damn drunk."

"Exactly." Lafayette grinned. "Ned?"

He discarded two.

Gideon asked for one.

And Walt wanted four.

Turning on Walt, Lafayette stared at him like he had grown an extra head, thinking, ‘ _Zut,_ I was sure, I had him down right.’ As he dealt Walt four cards, it gnawed at him. ‘Why in the hell, would he bet twelve dollars on a dead hand?'

Picking up his cards, Lafayette lightly snorted, placing them atop Orville’s and folding. Then he studied Thaddeus and inwardly laughed, 'that _une_ card did not do _qu’elle_ he wanted.'

Looking his way, Thaddeus smiled boldly, laying out a ten-dollar bet.

Ned put in the ten and once more added another seven.

‘Seven, again? Kind of odd…’ Lafayette thought, but his attention shifted to Gideon, who was by and large cautious and had chosen to stay with it. ‘Hmmm, _qu’elle_ has he got?'

Walt, too, put in seventeen dollars.

It was back to Thaddeus, who chirked through a grin, tossing in the seven and ten more.

Each player stuck with it.

When it was again Thaddeus’ turn, he called, showily spreading out three tens.

Ned laid down three jacks.

“Got ya both,” Gideon said, methodically placing four deuces on the tabletop.

Leaning in, Walt exhaled, “that was a near miss," and he dropped his bunched-up cards near the pot, saying, "I have a full set of sevens."

Before his hand had hardly moved, Ned snapped, "Bullshit...leastways, lay them so we can see them." His hand darted out to spread Walt's four sevens across the table.

Only, the moment he did, Lafayette’s also flew forward, clamping hold of Ned’s hand.

Ned jerked, but Lafayette held tight, and all movement ceased, except for Gideon pushing his chair back, so he no longer sat between Ned and Walt.

There was no play in Lafayette's tone as he said, "I want _vous_ flimflammers to listen real close. _Vous_ have played clean until this move."

Ned blurted, "Hey, now!"

Lafayette’s eyes turned black. "Hush... _vous_ should be listenin’."

Ned’s face reddened, "Now, wait one cotton-picking minute, BOY!"

"Woo wee, ya must be tired of livin’..." Orville hooted, “... cheatin' _and_ callin' Captain Crowe, a boy, to boot."

Both Ned and Walt paled.

In a pleasant, undisturbed way, Lafayette went on, "As I was sayin’, _vous_ been playin’ clean, until now. However, _vous_ is damn fortunate I _promessed_ Sherriff Rory we would remain amicable in his town. So, when I release _vous,_ Ned...." His eyes flicked to Walt, who was white knuckling the edge of the table. "... I want y'all to pick up _vous_ coats, walk out, get on _vous_ horses, and find another town to roost in."

Having ambled over with Reed and Jimmy, Brody asked, "What are these gents attemptin’, _Frère Cadet_?"

“Orville, if’n _vous_ will check Ned's discards, _vous_ will find _une_ instead of _deux_." As he instructed this, Lafayette forcibly turned Ned's hand over, and under it was the seven of spades.

Jimmy clicked his tongue, "that be a canny catch, Bucko."

Lafayette's smile grew so large; his dimples dug ravines in his cheeks. Releasing Ned, he hissed, “Get!”

The pair of cheats leapt up, and grabbing their coats, they reached for their currency still on the table.

Thaddeus raised his chin, “uh-huh.”

Ned started to speak.

Thaddeus’ index finger stroked the butt of his Remington, resting in its cross-draw holster.

Recalling how fast it had appeared before, Ned shoved Walt around, and they dashed out the door to the accompaniment of rancorous laughter.

“Being, it was _moi_ who deduced their deception,” Lafayette said, he collected their abandoned banknotes. Standing, he folded the bills, depositing them in his interior vest pocket.

Orville asked, “Ya ain’t leavin’?”

"It would be boorish to say; I am bored, but..." Lafayette shrugged one shoulder, making a chirking sound. Then turned to walk away.

"Hold up. Ya know what I think?”

“ _Qu’elle_ would that be, Orville?”

“All that playin' ya did down in New Orleans with them riverboat gamblers,” Orville scratched his chest, “well, it just made you too damn good to be enjoyable to play against."

Gideon nodded empathetically.

"Why _merci beaucoup_."

"And arrogant to boot," Reed mumbled, from where he stood alongside Brody.

Picking up his whiskey glass, Lafayette toasted his men, downing the amber liquid. Then touching a finger to the side of his nose, said, "See y'all around," and strolled to the bar, snickering.

"Hell, I will play now Lafe’s gone," Brody said, dropping into a chair.

Filling another chair, Reed said, “completely agree.” He watched Lafayette cross the room, “the way he seems to know precisely what you are holdin’ always makes me fretful as a hungry cat.”

At the bar, Lafayette smiled at Fox.

Only Fox did not smile back.

"Are you that sore at _moi_?"

"Ya ran me out of the game!"

"Not _moi_ , Fox. It was Lady Luck."

"If'n that is the case, then I say she is a damn whore, ‘cause she is always on your side."

His expression all innocence, Lafayette replied, "if ‘n she is _toujours_ on _m’_ side, would that not make her the opposite of a whore?"

"You rightly know what I mean, _Lafayette_!"

Laughter rolled deep in Lafayette's chest, "Hey, Dan, refills _m’_ glass, send a bottle to the table, and give Fox another beer."

"Feeling sorry for the lot, are you?" The bartender asked.

" _Désolé,_ hell!” Lafayette chuckled, “I need ’em all to keep watchin’ _m’_ back, not shootin’ _moi_ in it."

Fox spun on Lafayette, "Now that ain't right'! Ain’t right to say at all! Not one of’n us would _ever_ do anything of the sort."

"Take it easy. I was only jestin’." Lafayette replied, shooting back his whiskey, tapping his glass to be refilled. When from the corner of his eye, he spied Hildy sidling up to him.

“You want to take a bottle upstairs with me, Captain?”

“ _Merci_ for the offer, _Mademoiselle,_ but I do believe I shall pass.”

Flipping her dark curls from her bare shoulders, she fluttered her lashes at him, dismissively sauntering off.

A bit down the bar, Wade Morrow leaned out, “Hey, Capt’ you passin’ er up as not to stir up a hornet’s nest?”

Lafayette chuckled, “perhaps, perhaps.”

Turning his back to Fox, who was staring darkly into his drink, Lafayette surveyed the room.

Quinton Nicholson said, “Was watching that last game.”

Lafayette nodded.

“How did you know?”

“While I was in the _Vieux Carré,_ I was fortunate to make a friend of Reggie Brodeur. He is _une_ hell of a gambler, just a wonder to watch in action. _Une_ night, close to dawn, he called a pair of charlatans on it. Later, Reggie explained how it was a simple nutshell trick, and _qu’elle_ those gits were doin’ fit the pattern.”

“Well, it sure was slick the way you caught them. Except what if you had been incorrect.”

A quirk of humor appeared at the corners of Lafayette’s mouth, “then I suppose, Quin, I would have been required to make amends.”

While they were speaking, Alice Walsh, who judged herself above the other working girls of the Staghorn, flowed over her curves, rolling and bouncing in tantalizing coordination.

“Noted how skillfully you handled them cheats, and I have decided I would let you…” She eyed Lafayette lustfully, her hand stroking up his inner thigh, “…. show me how skillfully you can handle a lady?”

His blood ran hot at her touch, except then he recalled how Celia’s kisses made him feel, and his blood turned cold. Removing Alice’s hand from its upward journey, he smiled tightly down at her. “Not interested.”

A pinched look came into Alice’s blue eyes as they scrolled over him. Then she laughed, smiling again, “Oh, Darlin’, I can show you the way if’n you do not know how.”

Lafayette shook his head, “just like I have told _vous_ in the past, I am not interested.”

Taking a step back, she glanced to Fox behind Lafayette, then bronzed-skinned, immaculately dressed Quinton to his right and raised her chin, imperiously. “Suppose I shall leave you to your chosen company.” Taking a few steps, she threw a glinting glare back over her shoulder, “as I am thinkin’, they are more to your interest and style.”

Fox sat his glass down so fast it sounded like a rock being dropped. “Ya ain’t gonna let her say something like that.”

Spinning Lafayette, propped his forearms on the bartop, “say _qu’elle?_ ”

Fox looked dubiously over at Lafayette.

Quinton dryly said, “you just made an enemy of Alice.”

“How is that?”

“When she chooses someone, she does not bide with being turned down.”

“I was not interested.”

“You certainly made that clear, and Alice did not care for it one bit. She will be spreadin’ talk ‘bout you.”

Fox nodded his agreement.

Lafayette looked from one to the next and tipped his whiskey glass up.

“You ain’t still sweet on that lil’ gal from Cedar County?”

Swallowing the whiskey in a gulp, Lafayette shot Fox a true shut the hell up look.

Ignoring it, Fox asked, “well, are you?”

“Dan, refill _m’_ glass,” Lafayette called to the bartender.

Fox peered worriedly across the room at Alice draped across the shoulder of one of Anderson’s men. _“That_ is what you should have told Alice.”

Once more, Lafayette looked between his friends, “you think she _vraiment_ will start talk.”

They both nodded, and leaning in, Quinton said, “come on, Lafayette, everyone knows you have not taken a single gal upstairs all winter, and plenty of them have tried to coax you. What do you think she meant by interest and style?”

Lafayette stared into Quinton’s face and then, low in his throat, growled, “ _Chiant!_ ”

Pushing off the bar, he assessed the room and strode over to Florrie, leaning against the piano, tapping her fingers on its scarred top in rhythm with the music.

“ _Bonjour, Madame.”_

“Well, good evening, Captain Crowe.”

Bending to her, he kissed her neck, whispering, “you workin’ tonight?”

Florrie Moss was well-liked among the Staghorn patrons. Yet, her blonde hair was still perfectly styled as she had not been upstairs once this evening. The men preferred sitting and joking with her, saying she reminded them too much of an Aunt to do more.

One corner of her mouth curled up, “Hun, you sure?”

He nodded.

“Well, then.” She stood straighter, smiling grandly over at Alice, who was scowling with her hands on her hips.

“Just a moment, though.” Taking her hand; Lafayette led Florrie back to the bar, and snagging Fox’s hat from him, he tossed it on the bartop.

"What the hell?" Fox yelped, reaching for it.

"Wait…" Lafayette directed, and removing the wad of bills from his vest, he leafed a pile into the hat. "Keep ‘em all happy…." he clamped Fox on the shoulder, “and, Northrup, I will give you a bounty if’n you keep Taddy from startin’ a damn fistfight."

Eyes from all over the room were on him as he escorted Florrie to the staircase. With a slight bow, he coyly and a bit loudly said, “Lead the way, _Madame_ Moss.”

[1]French: Sometimes, I really and truly do not understand your thinking, Lafe.

[2]French: Goes to prove, you do not know me as well as you enjoy boasting.


	36. Chapter THIRTY-FOUR

Chapter Thirty-Four

Inside Florrie Moss’ room, Lafayette crossed straight to the window. There was not a cloud in the starlit sky, and he admired how the silvery light highlighted the stretching boughs of the Elm tree behind the Staghorn.

Shutting her door, Florrie leaned against it, smiling to herself, admiring his broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist.

Lafayette’s gaze drifted from the trees to further out, and spying the North Star, he thought, ‘Cedar is that way…is she there? Does she think of _moi_?’

After a time, and he had done nothing, Florrie took a seat on her bed, gently asking, “Hun, you been with a woman before?”

Lafayette nodded, “more than a few.”

Quiet settled back into the room.

Florrie reached up, unpinning her hair, and when she laid the tortoiseshell comb on her bedside table, it made a soft tapping sound as it rocked to a halt.

Lafayette turned an ear to the room, trying to identify the sound and, with a sigh, turned himself all the way around.

Patting the mattress, she passed him a soft, comforting smile. “Come sit.”

He shook his head, looking to the floor, ‘this was a _mal_ idea. I just wanted to prove Alice wrong…only _fille_ I want…’ He shook his head again, not wanting to think her name while he was in this room.

Florrie stood, and his head jerked up, his eyes widening like a spooked horse.

Ignoring him, she walked to her dresser. Opening the top drawer, she removed a bottle, filling two glasses. “Hope you do not mind; Sherry is all I have.”

Taking the fluted wine glass, she offered, he said, “ _Merci_. I ain’t ever had Sherry.”

Swirling the golden liquid, he noted how it briefly clung to the glass, and it came to him, he had not had wine since leaving Louisiana. Taking a sip, he peeked at her with a tiny grin, “it is mighty sweet.”

Florrie nodded, “given a choice, I like everything to be sweet, and…gentle.” She glanced at her bed, covered with a faded quilt made of pink and white blocks.

Lafayette took another drink, ‘I have to do something, or she will tell the others. Damn _m’_ pride, it has placed _moi_ in another difficult position.’

Stepping closer, Florrie stroked his shoulder, feeling the muscles flinch beneath her hand. “Captain Crowe?”

When his eyes met hers, she marveled how dark they were, and standing this close, she thought she could also see something more, ‘is it fear?’

Gulping down the Sherry, he handed her the glass.

Placing it atop her dresser, she turned back to find him extending five dollars. “foolish though it is for me to say, but Captain, that is far, far too much.”

“It is for your silence; it is all I require from you.”

She took half a step back. After carefully regarding him, she took the bills, slipping them in her corset front. “What you need is a story and someone to talk to.”

Sinking onto a wooden camp chair, he snatched off his hat, scrubbing at his hair.

“Lafayette, is it not?”

He nodded.

“You are not the first to come up here needing to talk.”

Dropping his hat to the floor, he propped his elbows on his knees.

Refilling her glass, Florrie sat on her bed, pulling her legs up comfortably. “Go on and talk. I will not tell a soul what you share; that is the silence you have paid for.”

Raising his head, he pondered. Then with a tremorous exhale, he dropped his forehead to his steepled fingers. “I have this _fille…_ lady.”

“My goodness, is that the reason none have been able to lure you in.”

The chair creaked; he straightened so fast.

“Did you not know there is a wager on who got you up here first?”

He shook his head.

She smiled brightly.

“Appears you won.”

She nodded, “tell me ‘bout your lady.”

“She ain’t truly _m’ fille._ ” He leaned his head back against the wall. “I want her for mine, but…it is all so damn confusing. _Excuse m’_ language.”

“Is she here in Pineville?”

“ _Non._ ” Lafayette sighed, “Over in Cedar, but I do not know _qu’elle_ I should do or how to cease recallin’ how she made _moi_ feel and….” His words trailed away in another sigh.

“Go on and tell me it all. Perhaps I can afford you some helpful feminine counsel.”

Flexing one hand over the other, he thought, ‘it might’en do _bonne_ to just get it all out.’

Bending over, she pulled a saucer from under her bed, handing it to him. “I know you smoke. It will make talkin’ easier.”

Crossing an ankle on his knee, Lafayette balanced the saucer on his bent leg and lit a cigarillo. Once he had taken a long drag, he began talking.

Florrie encouraged him with insights and gentle comments.

Telling her of Celia and his dreams was like removing a burden from his shoulders. His smile came naturally, his tension slipping from him until a thunderous, reverberating boom rocked the Staghorn.

Surging up, he yanked the LeMat from its holster, darting for the door.

Florrie shouted, “Wait! Do not rush down there blind. Figure out what is happenin’ first!”

Knowing she was correct, he forced himself to remain in the open door. It did not take long for him to realize an all-out prizefight was occurring on the Staghorn’s ground floor.

Moving up beside him, Florrie laughed, saying, “sounds like a mighty good one.”

“That it does,” he grunted, holstering the LeMat. “ _Merci_ for listenin’.”

Before he made it one step, she latched hold of him, even as another crash was followed by what he knew to be his brother, bellowing. “Take that, you fucker.”

“Florrie, I gotta get down there.”

“I know, but if you want me to cover you with a story.” She tugged at his shirt, “you need to be a bit more bare when you charge down there.”

Nodding, he unbuckled his holster handing it to her. Peeling out of his war tunic, he followed it with his vest and shirt.

Pointing at his pants, Florrie said, “Top button.”

Undoing it, he pulled the LeMat from its holster. Giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek, he murmured, “ _merci beaucoup_ for everything _.”_ Taking off, he bolted down the stairs in time to see Orville launch someone clean over the bar.

The same bar, the Staghorn’s gray-haired owner, Dan Stacey, stood behind shouting. "Y’all cease and desist! Damn it, boys, knock this shit off!"

Halting on the last few steps, Lafayette scanned the mass of cursing fighting men, unable to fathom the amount of destruction they had already perpetrated.

When Dan Stacey’s eyes met Lafayette’s, the irate bartender vigorously pointed at him. "Get your---" He broke off to smash a bottle across a combatant’s head who was trying to climb atop his ornate walnut bar.

Filling his lungs, Lafayette bellowed, “Crowe Rangers!”

Jimmy, alone, looked up. But in doing so was tackled by another. Grabbing the man in a hold, Jimmy swung him away, slamming him into two others, and with a howl, he leapt right back into the squirming, twisting melee.

Muttering, “ _Jésus a pleuré_ ,” Lafayette ran down the remaining steps, ducking and dodging fighters he attained the front doors. Opening one, he fired rounds into the night sky.

The roaring blasts snagged the wildcat revelers' attention, most of them going for their revolvers, even as Lafayette roared, "RANGERS!"

Chairs fell from hands, men staggered apart, and sidearms were discreetly returned to holsters.

Slamming the door, Lafayette stalked across the saloon with the smoking LeMat dangling from his hand, barking, "What in the fuckin’ hell!?"

Rangers, both his and those of other Captains, shuffled out of his way.

Flinging his long bangs from his face, he asked the now quiet room., “ _Qu’elle_ started this?"

From behind the bar, Common Smith waved to Lafayette, drunkenly swaying, he shouted. "Hey, Capt', you have an enjoyable ride upstairs?"

Lafayette barked. "Common, get the hell out here."

“Yes, Sir. Capt’, Sir,” Common responded, with a salute he threw up so fast, he about flipped himself over.

A ripple of feminine laughter drifted across the room from the Staghorn’s staircase, littered with its collection of calico queens.

Glancing to them, Dan Stacey frowned, then dropped his head in his hands, moaning. “You boys have destroyed my place."

Hearing him, Lafayette could not decide if he was more ashamed or angry with his men, moving toward the bar, he said. “Y’all line up if’n _vous_ want a place to drink and not have Sherriff Rory bannin’ every last _une_ of’n us from Pineville."

There was a snorted mixture of laughter.

Lafayette’s tone dropped, becoming clear, strong, and cold. “I am fuckin’ serious. I made _promesses_ to Rory, just as your own Captains did…and I want to know _qu’elle_ started this, afore I am required to speak with Rory.”

With a good deal of grousing and shoving, the semblance of a line was formed.

Glass crunched beneath Lafayette’s boots as he walked past five unknown men attired in brown Ranger war tunics. Upon recognizing Thomas Maupin, he halted. “Tom.”

“Lafayette.”

“Where is Captain Quantrill?”

“He ain’t here. We all are ridin’ with Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Bill Anderson?”

Maupin nodded, as did the similarly dressed Rangers about him.

“Well, where in hell is he?”

To Tom’s left, a man with a full black mustache and a remarkable gash on his cheek volunteered. "Lieutenant Anderson had business elsewhere."

Next in line was Gideon, and Lafayette nodded his chin at him. "Gid, you are missin’ a tooth."

"Sure am.” Gideon Barnett jabbed a thumb to a man laid out across a slanted, broken table. “But I got my payback."

Lafayette’s back stiffened. "He alive!?"

"Yeah,” replied a slim built man, “we already done checked on Payne."

Walking on, Lafayette sneered, " _vous_ most assuredly forfeited _vous_ bounty,” as he passed Fox Northrup.

Who piped right back, "it sure were fun, though."

Passing him a mean glare, Lafayette kept walking, only to stop again before John Lillie from Anderson’s group. “Lillie, I would say your nose is broken."

Leaning out, Lillie waved a fist down the line. "Damn you, Gamble."

Jimmy dabbed at his bleeding lip, muttering, “teach ya be not sneaking up on a man.”

A little past Jimmy, Lafayette finally found who he was searching for sandwiched between Brody and Orville. Coming to a full stop, he turned, crossing his arms. “Nice mouse, _Frère Cadet._ "

Thaddeus felt gingerly of the swelling about his right eye.

" _Vous_ start this?"

"That ain't fuckin' fair."

“A show of hands would confirm most of the fist-fights, any of’n us have been in were started by _vous_.” Lafayette stepped closer, a tight hard look about his eyes. “So, I am askin’ again…. did _vous_ start this?"

"Hey, Capt’.”

Lafayette snapped, “ _qu’elle_ Jimmy?”

“For once, Tad be not for throwing the first blow."

All fell quiet. But several men threw glances toward a square-faced youth.

Feeling them do so, the boy stood taller, tightly saying, “it was not _all_ my fault.”

“It most assuredly was not.” Frank James chimed in, bumping against Reed standing beside him. “But I will say, Lil’ Arch, when you opened the ball, you did a damn fine job.”

Releasing a belly laugh, Frank teasingly sang out, “Hey, Baby Crowe, how is that eye feelin’ about now?”

“Fuck you, Frank!” Thaddeus shouted, surging forward.

Catching his collar Orville hauled him back, and Lafayette flashed his brother a look that froze him in place. “So, Archie, why did _vous_ throw the first punch?”

Archie Clements looked to his fellow Rangers, and stepping forward, he threw his shoulders back. “Way of it is this, Capt' Crowe. Yuse men are a bunch of blowhard crooked, flannel-mouth damn liars.”

Three of Archie’s pals joined in with a good run of colorful curses.

Waving the big-bore LeMat in their general direction, Lafayette coolly said, “settle the fuck down.”

“Go on and try telling ’em again,” Frank grumbled, shoving Reed Chaplin forward.

Folding his arms across his deep chest, Reed loudly said, "just like I told y’all earlier, we were are not liars, and we were not defrauding you.” Reed smirked over at Frank before grinning down to where the majority of the Anderson Rangers stood. “Y’all are merely uneducated in the rules of poker and piss-poor players. "

Five of Anderson's Rangers came on in a rush.

Stepping in front of Reed, Lafayette leveled the LeMat. "Stand fuckin’ down, afore I lose _m’ tempère_!"

One of the five asked, “Berry, what do you think?”

“Suppose he ain’t a Captain for nuthin, we oughta give ‘em a chance.”

John Jarrette eyed the LeMat, wondering if it was triggered for the shotgun round. “I deem we all can remain peaceable a bit longer, while Capt’ Crowe discovers what sort of cheats, he is leadin’.”

“Keep fuckin’ tellin’ y’all backwood hicks; we ain’t fuckin’ cheats!”

“ _Ta gueule,_ Thaddeus Robert Crowe, enough!” Lafayette shouted. Hearing muffled chuckling, he rounded on Brody, Jackson, Jimmy, Reed, and Frank James. " _Pour l'amour de Dieu_ , tell _moi_ , y'all did not pull that straights and flushes ain’t played in stud poker _merde_."

They started outright laughing.

" _Jésus pleura!_ Did all y'all not learn your lesson up in Blue Jay." Lafayette held a hand out to Reed. "Hand it over!"

"What?"

"You know damn-well _qu’elle_!"

Reed squinted, and with a grunt, pulled a well-thumbed copy of: ‘ _Hoyles - The rules of Fashionable Games’_ from his back pocket.

Grabbing it, Lafayette slammed it on the bar. " _Mon_ Rangers, listen up! Does this here resemble a riverboat or a high-class gamblin’ establishment?"

They all shook their heads.

"I am happy to know we are in agreement. So, in times to come, unless we happen to be at one of those _deux_ locations, _par Dieu,_ I do _not_ want to hear a peep… not a peep.” He passed a devil’s eye over those he knew were in on the prank, “about any _petit_ known Hoyle rules. Am I makin’ _mon_ self fuckin’ clear?"

Despite their snorting and laughing, they all nodded.

Archie leaned out, pouting like a stepped-on dog, "You sayin’ they were not cheatin’?"

"Or falsifying?" John Lillie asked.

_“_ They were not.” Lafayette replied, “they were merely bein’ _putain_ jackasses."

A laugh burst from Wade, sounding rather similar to a braying ass being picked up by those nearest him.

Lafayette's eyes became so black his pupils and irises merged. However, taking a calming breath, he walked to a tall, bearded man he felt was the eldest of Anderson’s Men. " _Mes apologies_ that _m’_ Rangers saw fit to treat their _frère d'armes…_ brothers in arms, so poorly. However, Hoyle does have numerous rarely spoken of rules in their book. So strictly speakin’, _m’_ boneheaded jokers were being honest and true with your companions.”

John Jarrette shouted, “I want to hear this rule.”

Lafayette smiled tightly, “neither a straight nor a flush is permissible in a game of stud poker unless announced afore the play begins."

Running a hand through his wavy auburn hair, Jarrette shrugged. “Well, I will be damned. It really says that?”

“Right there in the book, the rule was added in ’57, and y’all can read it for yourselves after you place restitutions on Dan’s bartop for the damages done.”

"What?"

"Captain?!"

"To hell, you say!"

"Lafayette?"

Not bothering to see who was complaining, Lafayette curtly responded, "It be all y'alls choice. Course, it also be Stacey’s to put y'all on his list of those he chooses not to serve.” Having noticed Sheriff Rory had come in through the backdoor, Lafayette nodded acknowledgment, “just as it is also Sherriff Rory’s choice if’n he has us _all_ run from his town."

Daniel Stacey tapped the bar surface, indicating where to place their funds, and slowly, with apologies, some which sounded a touch more like laying blame, the pile of money grew.

Lafayette’s gaze roamed across the shuffling men, and then he smiled meekly to Daniel Stacy, "Does this settle the difficulty?"

"I would say it does."

" _Très bonne…_ very good," Lafayette answered. Pushing off the bar, he strode toward the stairs where Florrie stood wrapped in a silk robe holding his belongings and wearing his hat at a jaunty angle. On his way over, he kicked a broken chair. “And all y’all clean this place up for Dan!"


	37. Chapter THIRTY-FIVE

Chapter Thirty-Five

**Monday 20 th of March 1863**

Meredith’s Boarding house gate creaked a bit on opening.

Shooting a look over his shoulder, Brody frowned. “Hey, Lafe, here comes the Sheriff.”

Lafayette took his feet down from the railing, where he was kicked back, listening to the rain on the covered porch. “Cannot imagine this is _bonne._ ”

Jackson took a drink from his coffee, “cannot be too bad.” He nodded to the far end of the porch where Thaddeus, Fox, JT, Reed, Clyde, and Charlie were playing cards. “Most of our trouble rousers are here.”

Sheriff Lyle Rory stepped onto the porch, removed his hat, and shook the wetness from it, saying, “afternoon, Captain Crowe.”

Unfolding to his feet, Lafayette asked, “ _Qu’elle_ can I do for you, Sheriff?” Even as he said this, his eyes drifted to the three deputies standing behind Rory.

The Sheriff smiled, but it had little warmth. “Do not fret ‘bout them.”

The chattering coming from the card players had ceased, and Lafayette did not need to see them, to know they were all staring, most likely, with narrowed eyes.

Stepping from the house, Orville froze. He took in all present and purposely switched his coffee mug to his left hand, freeing up his right.

Taking control of the situation, Lafayette moved toward Rory. Noting Brody had moved his revolver to his lap, he patted him on the shoulder as he walked by. Trying to keep a casual air to his voice, he said. “If’n I am not to fret, once more, _qu’elle_ can I do for you?”

Rory smiled tightly, “way of it is, spring is arriving.”

The rocker Jackson sat in squeaked, and several sets of eyes flitted his way. So, with a shrug, he commented. “Ain’t unusual it comes ‘bout the same time every year.”

Lafayette’s dimples appeared with his smile. “That it does, _Frère_.”

Rory’s deputies shifted, the hard soles of their shoes scraping hollowly on the raised porch.

“Been makin’ rounds chattin’ with the other groups, ‘bout how the town leaders feel it might be high time for y’all to return to your own Counties.”

Orville straightened swiftly.

Rory’s weathered face turned to Orville, “I am not here askin’ for trouble. But y’all have worn your welcome thin.”

“Capt’ here,” Orville’s gaze bounced between Lafayette and Rory. “Has spent plenty enough legal tender in this here Burg. Enough to have kept our welcome plush, I would say.”

Rory firmly replied, “Ain’t goin’ to debate this, Riggs.”

Orville shook his shoulders back, “that so?”

Walking between the two, interrupting the building standoff, Lafayette flatly asked. “So, are _vous_ the escort committee, or are we allowed a few days to plan our departure?”

“Oh, a couple of days…end of the week,” Rory responded. “Do not think of it as bein’ kicked out. We here in Pineville are only encouragin’ how y’all might want to see what the blue coats have been doin’ in y’alls neck of the woods.”

Flashing a flat cold smile, Lafayette nodded. “As Orville stated…all the coins, all of’n us have spread ‘bout Pineville, well, it is piss poor hospitality for the town leaders to send _vous_ out this way. Yet, we do not desire a _mêlée_ with our own people, so we will most assuredly be ridin’ out.” His head tilted to the side, an idea coming to him. “Is this what the other groups have been sayin’?”

A smile that actually touched Rory’s eyes manifested. “Some of’em have not taken it as cordially as y’all. Still, cordial or not, it is time for y’all to hit the trail.”

“As I said, we will vacate by the end of the week.”

Sheriff Rory returned his hat to its place with a nod. “Thank ya, Captain Crowe, appreciate your understandin’.”

By the end of the week, green was starting to tint the world. Hints of it lay in the fields, trees showed signs of budding, and the Rebel Irregulars trailed from Pineville like a cavalry brigade on parade.

Lafayette and his Lieutenants rode at the front with square-jawed, pale-eyed George Todd and Coleman Younger, who was so tall, he hardly carried enough meat to cover his bones.

“How did you hear; Frank James was nursin’ boys up in Jackson?” George asked about the cigar stub he was chewing. “I did not even realize he had ridden out until he had been gone for days.”

Coleman hitched a thumb over his shoulder, back to his brother riding with some of Lafayette’s men. “Bob brought the news with ‘em.” Coleman scratched his chin, “he also said the counties are pretty hot.”

“I heard that also, from Hildebrand,” Brody put in. “One of his cousins came down from Cass and told ‘em the Yanks never let up on their molesting of counties, all through the winter.”

Lafayette frowned, thinking, ‘perhaps we should not have left.’

Knowing him far too well, Jackson bumped his toe into Lafayette’s leg. When Lafayette looked his way, Jackson whispered, “How many would you have lost with no shelter?”

“Still, ain’t I _toujours_ sayin’ we are fightin’ for our people.”

Edging in on their discussion, Brody put in, “and we are headed to do just that.”

Lafayette nodded in response, but there was no true agreement to be read anywhere, from his eyes to his body posture.

Veering closer, Brody dropped his voice, his words for Lafayette. “ _Frère Cadet_ , we cannot be everywhere, all the time. Ain’t a one of us did not need to build their strength back up after all the bleedin’ and fightin’.” Switching his reins to his other hand, he gripped Lafayette’s forearm. “Try not to let it worry you so.”

Despite speaking low, George Todd caught some of what he said and hollered over. “What?! You anxious ‘bout missin’ out on some of the bloodlettin’?”

Lafayette’s jaw clenched his left dimple popping. “You obviously know _petit_ ‘bout _m’_ Rangers and _moi._ ”

“Oh, HO!” George Todd laughed. “Know y’all are damned cussed-ornery fighters but oddly enough refuse to carry that spirit west of the Stateline.”

“Correct on both counts,” Lafayette answered. “We fight in Missouri, to keep the Kansans out, not to carry the fight to their State.”

George Todd’s eyes pinched, then abruptly, he flashed a smile. “Hell, with such a philosophy, ain’t y’all goin’ to find ridin’ with us difficult. Perhaps not all your men feel as you do, Crowe.”

Brody cocked a grin at Todd, “lil’ early in the day to start pokin’ on our Capt.’”

Plucking the cigar from his mouth, George asked. “when did you take up watchin’ over ‘em like a Papa?”

Steering Artorius closer to George’s smaller bay, Brody laid a stern frown on George Todd. “More like his brother, and you would do best to back the fuck down.”

“Hell, Brody, I ain’t even started.”

Brody’s face bunched.

“Anyway, Coleman…” Lafayette shouted, shifting the attention to himself. “Frank is already up in Jackson?”

George Todd’s blue eyes were still boring into Brody, as Coleman replied. “Yeah, we figure we will need to hunt the hollows and caves for him and the boys. We all were hangin’ in Pineville as it was our meetin’ point for when they returned from Arkansas.”

A chill ran down Lafayette’s back, “Arkansas?”

Coleman grunted and nodded. “Was down there myself, went with some of the boys to help the Missouri Iron Brigade.”

“Doin’ _qu’elle_?” Thaddeus asked.

Coleman shrugged. “Word was General Shelby needed scouts.”

Slanting his eyes to Thaddeus, Fox grunted, “to Hell you say,” and shook his head.

Half under his breath, Jackson said, “We lost close to forty men to the Confederacy last winter.”

“We heard that,” George responded. “Cept, General Shelby ain’t no Van Dorn, he respects his men, treats ‘em better.”

“I sure hope so,” Lafayette dug out his flask. “I still regret lendin’ _m’_ Rangers to the Confederacy.” Removing the lid, he took a long drink. Spotting Jackson’s extended hand, he passed it over to him.

Reed jumped into the conversation, saying, “Frank did tell me, they were treated better when he and I got together one night back in town.”

“If’n all that is so, then why they back in Jackson?” Fox asked.

A rumble of laughter erupted from George Todd, “same reason some of us did not go, in the first place. Despite General Shelby being a man to look up to, we all lived by our own rules for too long, and those who gave it a try found the rigors of military life too tedious for a Border Ruffian.”

“Yeah,” Coleman nodded enthusiastically at this, “that ‘bout sums it up, and a lot of our pals abandoned “Fightin’ Jo’ to creep back to their old hunting grounds.”

Lafayette and Jackson shared a secret look, and in it, they read one another’s thoughts that sneaking away showed a lack of honor, although it was what they too had done, so it was impossible to fault those who did the same.

Fox asked, “Q, still down there?”

In a hard voice, Archie Clements snapped, “you mean, Capt’ Quantrill?”

Fox shrugged, “sure.”

“Hell, no.” George Todd said, trying to light his cigar in the rising wind. “He took a pair of his pals and rode to Richmond.”

From behind him, Orville questioned, “Virginia?”

“That is where it was; last, I heard.” George responded, then giggled darkly. “course, the Yanks could have burned it up like they do everything else.”

Considering this, Lafayette’s nose wrinkled. “Why in _diable_ did he go to Richmond?”

“Went to speak to Secretary of War, James…. James…” George scratched his head.

Lafayette inserted, “Seddon, James Seddon. Why would he do that?”

“He figures we all have done enough damage out here on the Western front that Seddon should give him a Colonel commission under the Confederate Partisan Ranger Act.” George leaned out, grinning snidely at Lafayette. “Then, all y’all Captains would be under his command.”

Thaddeus’ rising anger could be heard as he asked, “you mean, Q would fuckin’ tell us all when and where to ride?”

Once more, Archie Clements responded, “Captain Quantrill!”

Thaddeus turned on Archie, his voice dropping to a deep, rough baritone. “Do not presume to sit there fuckin’ correctin’ _moi_ unless you feel like getting’ off that damn nag.”

Archie darkly asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I beat your ass down twice this past winter,” Thaddeus’ smile spread. “Do not mind takin’ a break to do so again. So, you go on and correct _moi_ again, and I am goin’ to open the fuckin’ ball all over you.”

Speaking louder, Orville asked, “Capt’ would he really have say over ya?”

George’s dark laughter rolled from him, just like the smoke from his cigar. “Bet you ain’t likin’ the sounds of that. Is you, Lafayette?”

Lafayette turned, smoothly smiling at George Todd. “Actually, I find it interestin’ that he went in search of a commission in Virginia. Did Hindman reject ‘em in Arkansas?”

George’s face tightened, but beyond Coleman Younger smiled.

Brody turned questioningly to Lafayette, “what do you mean?”

“Only that I read in a paper, how last July, General Hindman invoked the Trans Mississippi Confederate Partisan Act,” Lafayette answered, nodding to Brody while tapping his own chest. “We all are fighting in the vicinity designated the Trans Mississippi.” This time it was Lafayette who grinned snidely, right back, at George, “So, again, did General Hindman turn Q down?”

Bluntly, George responded, “Hell, if’n, I know.”

“What is this Partisan Ranger Act, Capt’?”

“It is _qu’elle_ we already do, Reed.”

“Then why an act?”

“It is to encourage citizens to organize into companies who will attack day and night hindering Federal troops, pickets, scouts, supply and communication lines. Each company is to be at least ten men with an _elected_ Captain.” Lafayette gestured to those around him. “I would say we all did that long ago, clear back with the Cass Cavaliers.”

Brody replied, “damn right, we did.”

“So, again…” Reed asked, “why an act?”

“Primarily, General Hindman wants the Captains to, periodically, send progress reports to Fort Smith. In this way, he knows who is fightin’ in the woods and who the Confederacy might call on in times of need. General Hindman also wrote that the Confederacy on the Captain’s affidavit will pay allowance and forage for the time men spend as troops. But _m’_ Rangers do not any of you start havin’ faith the Confederacy is goin’ to pay you. Way this war is goin’ they cannot hardly scratch together food and supplies, let alone enough coin to pay Rangers.”

Wagging his eyebrows gloatingly at George Todd, Brody stated, “well, I sure do not hear any mention of Colonels.”

Taking a puff from his cigar, George responded, “that is why Clarke went to Richmond.”

“ _Grand Frère_ , if’n he does get it—”

“Tad, do not worry,” Lafayette said, cutting his brother off but turning to smile reassuringly at him. “Even if’n he gets one, which I doubt, highly doubt.” He shook his head, “it gives Q no authority over self-organized Ranger units.” He then peered over at George Todd, “and God forbid he thinks it gives him authority over Border Ruffians and Bushwhackers…both you,” he nodded to Coleman Younger, “…know how well that will run.”

Coleman cocked his head at Lafayette with a smug grin. “Personally, I think Clarke is gettin’ too big for his britches.”

“He ain’t gonna like hearin’ that, Cole.”

“Who is goin’ to tell’em Arch…” Coleman turned in his saddle, laying a long look on Archie Clements, “YOU…or George here, ‘cause I know it sure as hell ain’t goin’ to be one of the Crowes.”

Archie slumped some, “just do not think it wise you speakin’ of the Captain that a way.”

Coleman shrugged off Archie’s warning, saying. “Well, then maybe he ought to stick ‘bout here captaining rather than runnin’ around speakin’ with Generals and politicians tryin’ to get a shiny feather stuck in his hat.”

A smattering of laughter rose from the Crowe Rangers, and Coleman’s droopy, serious eyes turned on all of them. “Now y’all, he is our Capt,’ and we can laugh at our Rooster if’n we want, but y’all knock it off.”

The smiles held all the way around, but the chuckling did cease.


	38. Chapter THIRTY-SIX

Chapter Thirty-Five

**Thursday 14** **th** **of May 1863**

Tumbling from dizzying heights, a waterfall splashed into an aquamarine pool, which overflowed along limestone cliffs, eventually becoming a creek that rambled across a hollow dotted with sycamore and cottonwood trees.

Tall rock walls as sheer as those of a castle moat encircled the hollow. Its ground-level entrance every bit as mysterious as was the creeks disappearance into the hollow’s far wall. Over the past three weeks, the hidden hollow had been the Crowe Rangers' camp. From here, they would span out, fording streams, racing through forests forever on the hunt for invaders who thrived off the possessions and fear of the locals.

Having returned from maneuvers, Brody, Wade, Reed, Common, Eddie, and Thaddeus strolled through the many glowing campfires. Moving past their friends, they talked as openly and comfortably with them as they would in their own barnyards, each happy to be back to where was oddly beginning to feel like home.

Sticking a marker in his Shakespeare to hold his page, Lafayette placed the book next to the tallow dish lamp he was reading by. “How did it go?”

“We spooked a handful of Missouri Home Guard this mornin’,” Reed said, setting down his saddle, squatting he untied his bedroll. “But did not stumble on any of Quantrill’s men.”

“Other patrols been sayin’ the same; we will just have to keep lookin’,” Lafayette replied, his gaze shifting out into the darkness. “Q must be back from Virginia, and with no leads on those who came to Sienna.” He frowned, mumbling to himself, “I need to speak with Q.”

“Each of us is fully cognizant of that, Capt’,” Reed answered, unfurling his bedroll. “You might have mentioned it a time or two when any of us depart.”

Lafayette popped his knuckles, staring into the darkness as Reed arrange his bed.

“Not even a comment?”

“You would not care much for it.”

Chuckling, Reed flopped onto his blankets, snugging his hands behind his head. “Moon sure has the sky lit up just right.”

Tilting his head back, Orville squinted. “Be better if ‘n the clouds would drift away.”

“No, I like when they ripple across the sky like this,” Reed responded. “Reminds me of the waves rippling before us in the moonlight when we came across to America.”

Orville took another look, “Ain’t never seen an ocean.”

“When we finish all this, you should.” Reed grinned over at him. “Hell, I will go with you, would not mind seeing it again.”

Filling a plate from the cook pot, Thaddeus took a seat on one of the many stumps surrounding their fire pit. “Anything other than beans in this?”

Fox absently answered, “bit of squirrel.”

Scooping a spoonful, Thaddeus let the beans fall back to his plate. "I am tired of beans."

“Well…” Fox grinned brightly, “you might feel different if 'n you did not eat three times more than the rest of ‘n us."

Flagging his middle finger to his pal, Thaddeus shoved in a mouthful of beans.

Fox filled his spoon, glanced at Thaddeus, and then with a smile like a banker owning two sets of books, he sent the beans sailing across the fire.

They hit with a splat, dropping in small clumps from Thaddeus’ chest.

Fox’s high-pitched laugh filled the camp.

Not bothering to look up from the sock he was darning, Orville grumbled, "Y'all knock that bullshit off before y'all get started."

Stifling his laughter, Fox sopped up his bean liquor. The dripping biscuit was half in his mouth when a greasy mess of beans hit him in the side of the head.

"Damn it y'all. I meant what I said!" Orville barked, glaring from one to the other. "Y’alls last battle left beans in my bedroll. Fuckin’ knock that shit off and act your age!"

Fox ducked his head.

However, sure as rain in April, Thaddeus drawled, "Orville …” pausing, he grinned slyly at Fox, who was watching him from the slant of his eye, “way you mollycoddle us, I would say we are actin’ our Gawd-damn age.”

Orville’s long arm shot out, knocking Thaddeus off the stump.

Scrambling to his feet, beans dripping from his hair, face, and shirt front, Thaddeus snapped, “ _Qu’elle_ the fuck?!”

"Done instructin’ ya to curb ya blasphemy, Taddy Boy,” Orville answered, rising to his feet, the heels of his hands resting on the double revolvers stored in his belt. “Ya oughta learn a bit of respect."

Peeking from his book, he had picked back up; Lafayette caught the snarl forming on his brother’s face and dryly said. "Taddy, go on down to the creek and clean up."

Mad all the way through, Thaddeus’ glare switched to his brother, who was already reading again. Slowly, his sharp green eyes trailed back to Orville Riggs. To find the large man staring down his nose, much as his father used to right before he tore into him. Wiping his hands down the front of his thighs, Thaddeus released his crooked, chipped-tooth grin. "Orville, I am fuckin' done with you, ridin' _m’_ ass.”

“That so?”

“It is, and I aim to teach you who to respect."

"Well, all right, comes on, Baby Crowe.” Orville beckoned. “I spit out gristle bigger than ya."

“ _Qu’elle_ have I said, ‘bout Rangers fightin’ Rangers,” Lafayette stated, not bothering to look away from where he was in ‘Henry V.’ “Y’all shake and think non more on it."

The only sound was the crackling fire.

Lowering his book, Lafayette found the pair squared up like dogs ready to leap. His mouth quirked to the side, ‘solid as Taddy is, he still ain’t worth bettin’ on against Orville.’ Having thought this, he softly and patently stated. “ _Petit frère, il te pulvérisera._ _Cela ne peut pas être ainsi que vous voulez terminer votre journée?_ _ **[1]**_”

Thaddeus' threw him an annoyed glance, his fist tightening.

“I said, shake.”

Raising his chin, Orville crossed his arms, his muscles pulling his shirt sleeves tight.

Tired of his authority being challenged, Lafayette leapt to his feet. “I for _une,_ am _putain_ sick of all y’alls disputes! Do y’all not get enough _combat_ and killin’…” Lafayette nodded off into the darkness beyond their camp, “…out there.”

Unfolding his arms, Orville sighed. “Sweet lady in waitin’, I was not really gonna take ‘em ya on.” He said, extending his hand to Thaddeus, releasing his enormous smile. “Ain’t ya the best shootist we have, and it would be a cryin’ pity to damage ya, Baby Crowe."

The knuckles of Thaddeus’ clenched fists turned white in the flickering firelight.

His voice dropping two octaves, Lafayette snarled, "Thaddeus Robert."

Thaddeus’ lips drew back, and he snagged Orville’s hand, shaking it once before throwing it from him.

“Thaddeus!”

Slowly, Thaddeus brought his eyes up to meet his brother, icily saying, "I shook his damn hand, did I fuckin’ not?" Turning his back to the silence surrounding him, he switched his Remington from its holster skid to the inside his waistband. Then removing his hip and shoulder holsters, he coiled them atop a stump. "I am fuckin’ goin’ to wash up." 

Except before walking away, he stepped close to his brother, whispering, “and you can cease fuckin’ governing _moi_ like I am a _putain_ _enfant_. It seems to have slipped your mind, but you ain’t _m’_ Father.”

Lafayette’s nostrils flared. He took a step after his brother, then spun, and retrieving his book, he tucked it in his saddlebag. "I am relievin’ Valentine from sentry.” Buckling on his extra holster and sticking another revolver in his beltline, he scanned the eyes watching him, his warm baritone sounding raspy as he tried to lightly say, “y’all try to play nice while I am gone."

Cheerful as a magpie, Fox piped up with, “Hell, Capt’ we always play nice.”

Turning on the redhead, smiling at him like a skunk devouring cabbage, Lafayette shook his head. “When are you goin’ to discover when it is best to just leave off?”

Fox’s grin expanded.

Looking Fox straight in the face, Lafayette shook his head. “ _F_ _aber est suae quisque fortunae_ _,_ " and then walked into the night.

Fox looked about at the faces near him, “What the hell did he just say to me???”

"Every man is the architect of his own fortune," Jackson called from where he was playing blanket Faro with Grandville, Hiram, Quinton, and Teague.

Fox scratched at the side of his head, encountering the grease left behind by the beans; he frowned. “I still do not understand.”

Quinton drolly replied, “It is Latin.”

“Damn it, Quin, that does not tell me what it means.”

A round of laughter rolled from the camp. Hearing it, Lafayette stared back at the glowing fires. "There are days, I wish, I could hand leadership over to another; I _vraiment_ do." Moving in alongside Jericho, the stallion snorted, sidestepping. "Did I wake you?" He lovingly rubbed his horse’s neck and back.

Leaning into him, Jericho curved his neck, gently mouthing the hem of Lafayette’s war tunic.

A hollow snort bellowed from the dark.

Every horse swung north, Jericho barreling into Lafayette, and he popped the stallion on his belly, braying, “hey!”

There was more defiant snorting.

Lafayette searched what he could see of the herd by starlight. Further down the line, a silver head was tossing and jerking against its picket line. “As bothersome as his rider, I swear.”

Suddenly, Cain reared, screaming a challenge that tore across the valley like a lightning bolt splitting the heavens.

Running to the stallion, Lafayette caught his picket line that was whipping in the air. Calming the horse, he bent to replace the picket pin and heard a low rumble. Straightening, he stared intently off to the north, until it came to him, ‘ _Jésus pleura, chevals_ are comin’ through the pass... a lot of 'em, too.' Cupping his hands to his mouth, he bellowed, "Rangers to arms!"

Turning to fetch Jericho, he felt the tug of the forgotten rope in his hand. Without a second thought, he swung aboard Cain, pointing him north. He did not have to urge the big stallion to run. The animal was already flying. As they closed in on the unknown riders, Lafayette made out the glint of brass uniform buttons.

His chest constricted, a cold lump filling his belly, turning Cain to race across in front of the intruders, Lafayette drew the LeMat and pivoted the striker of the pistol’s hammer.

His sudden appearance so startled the front riders, many reined in so sharp, their horses veered, rearing into one another.

Leveling the revolver, Lafayette thumbed back the LeMat’s thick hammer.

The double-barreled LeMat had been a birthday gift from his brother-in-law. How Jonathon had come by the revolver, as Lafayette had been diligently searching for a connection to obtain the rare weapon himself, he still did not know. However, he fully appreciated the firearm’s unique design of switching from its .42 caliber cylinder that fired nine rounds to the eighteen-gauge handheld shotgun.

It was this appreciation that gave him the courage to charge the line. For he knew when the secondary barrel belched its charge of grapeshot, at such close range, all hell would break loose, giving his men the extra moments, they needed to organize a defense.

Exhaling, Lafayette pulled the trigger and the line of horses twisted in on itself with cursing and shrieks.

Racing on, Lafayette disappeared into the darkness.

The soldiers regathered, quicker than he hoped they would, and they were charging for the campfires his Rangers had been reclining about. Circling in behind, Lafayette fired the nine .42 caliber rounds into the mass of men.

All over the bowl valley weapons were firing as fast as cylinders would turn, flames streaking the air as clouds of silvery smoke blanketed the valley.

It came to Lafayette in all the confusion. His men might shoot him by mistake, and sliding from Cain, he swatted the stallion’s rump, sending him plunging away.

Darting between combatants, he took quick shots with his extra Colts as he made for his Rangers. A stooped shouldered rider fired on Lafayette, his shot coming nowhere near doing harm, and yanking his horse up the man, took better aim.

Flinging himself sideways, Lafayette heard the shot whine by sure it had been far closer than he wanted. Lunging to his feet, he fired backward, not taking time to see if he made any hits, as he sprinted toward a cluster of his Rangers.

Earlier, when Lafayette shouted, “Rangers to arms!” The men had leapt to action, with Reed Chaplin diving from his bedroll to position himself behind the nearest tree. Braced into the smooth bark of the sycamore, he was making fair use of the Cavalry Sharps; he had procured after a battle, a month before.

Only his burgeoning skill was not appreciated by a narrow-faced man in a forager hat who changed course, yelling, "Goddamn Reb!"

Cold shivers ran down Reed’s arms as he swung the carbine toward the man, he could feel the thud of the horse’s hooves drawing nearer, and he fumbled the firing cap.

A narrow-faced man launched himself at Reed, striking him; he flipped Reed over, pinning the Sharps pinned between them. Then firelight flashed on the pointed tip of a Bowie knife.

The rider grinned into Reed’s fear, whitened face, and raised his arm to plunge the blade. Twisting hard, Reed freed the carbine, slamming the Sharp’s barrel into the man’s skull and his attacker’s eyes widened almost comically in his narrow face as he toppled over with a drawn-out groan.

Lead hammered the trees, bark exploding like shrapnel with green leaves fluttering aimlessly. In the swirling smoke, all was noise and confusion.

Springing from the water in nothing but his drawers, Thaddeus snagged up his Remington. Despite having just left the cold spring creek, he was sweating freely. ‘Where is Lafe?’ His eyes darted across the screaming disarray of men knowing there was no hope of finding his brother. Feeling the weight of the pistol in his hand, his face twisted with frustration. ‘ _Zut_ , I only have six rounds.”

A yipping rebel yell flowed from Thaddeus as he dashed for the fire pit, where his additional weapons and ammunition lay coiled atop a stump. As he ran, he demonstrated his reputation was not merely the fabrication of fireside tales, for each time he squeezed the Remington’s trigger, another invader squalled in pain.

A wide-chested bay turned and was now was coming straight for him. Dodging the huffing horse, Thaddeus triggered his sixth and final shot. The rider’s arms flew up with a screech, and he slumped over, flopping like a poorly tied bedroll from the horse it swerved, running on toward the creek.

A redhead on a blaze-faced sorrel shouted, “you fuckin’ Bastard!"

Instinctively Thaddeus ducked, dodging under the neck of the blaze-faced sorrel, and staggered, feeling like something hit him in the head. Gritting his teeth, he kept running. Then his hand wrapped about the leather belts of his holsters lying docile on the ground. Positive the sorrel was behind him; he did not pause but pushed harder.

Yet, somewhere during the battle, the stumps had been kicked over, and unbeknownst to Thaddeus, the belts were entangled beneath one, and when he hit the end of the leather, he was jerked up so quick, he flipped, landing flat on his back.

There was a thundering ringing in his ears and something running in his right eye. Desperately he tugged at one of his Navy Colts, trying to free it from the tangled mess.

A bullet drilled the ground next to his hand. Splinters and dirt peppering him as others, just missed. The Colt was coming free; he could feel it. Frantically, Thaddeus looked up, and it was as if the world had stopped for clear as if they were sitting across a table from one another; he watched the redhead smile and thumb back the hammer of his smoking pistol.

All at once, the view was gone, blocked by Orville’s enormous size

Reaching down, Orville gripped Thaddeus’ right arm, lifting him. “On your feet, Baby Crowe.”

Thaddeus extended the Navy Colt as he came up, firing so fast the six shots sounded like the rumble of a storm cloud.

The redhead wavered back-and-forth a sound like a belching bullfrog escaping from him as he fell headfirst to the ground.

Difficulty was Thaddeus’ barrage of fire also killed the man’s horse, and it was wrecking, plowing a furrow straight toward him and Orville like a derailed locomotive.

Orville half-frowned, sarcasm thick in his voice as he said, “well, hell!” Flinging his arm out, he shoved Thaddeus from him as if he were no more than a chunk of firewood.

[1] Little Brother he will pulverize you. That cannot be how you want to end your day.


	39. Chapter THIRTY-SEVEN

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Squatted close to the ground with his heart pounding hard, replacing his spent cylinders, Lafayette eyed a riderless horse cropping mouthful of grass. Taking advantage of the lull, he pinched his nose, popping his ears, hoping to lessen the hissing ring; then rising to his full height of six foot one, he turned in a circle, muttering “looks to be over.”

During the battle, the campfires had been ran through, and the scattered wood burned low, casting flickering shadows across the dead littering the once peaceful field. Lafayette’s lips pressed tight, ‘how many are _m’_ men?’

Walking toward the fire he had camped near, he realized his closest friends were grouped tight about it, and he began running.

A high-pitched boyish voice shouted, “Throw your hands up!”

"Teague, it is Lafayette."

"Apologize, Capt’."

" _Non_ , _bonne_ work," Lafayette said, gripping the boy’s thin shoulders as he passed by.

Entering the feeble circle of firelight, a sickening dread filled Lafayette as his friends parted, allowing him to see Orville trapped beneath a dead horse with his head resting in Thaddeus' lap. A rush of relief filled Lafayette that also horrified him; when he realized it was Orville in grievous straits and not his brother.

Orville’s pinched eyes shifted to Lafayette, and in that inordinately friendly way of his, he said, "Hey, Capt'."

Dropping to a knee, Lafayette gripped Orville’s hand, forcing out a smile that came nowhere near reaching his eyes. “ _Zut_ , Orville, _qu’elle_ you do this time?”

“Always was one for getting’ myself in a tight spot. T’weren’t I?”

Lafayette nodded, and then looking sharply to the others standing about like lost calves, he barked, "Where the hell is Jackson?"

From right behind him came a hushed voice, "Here."

Twisting his neck, Lafayette pleaded, "Ain’t you goin’ to do something?"

Jackson’s face pulled tight, and he shook his head.

Lafayette’s mouth opened to tear into him, and Orville squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back. “Ain't no good…” a cough sent a spasm through him. “I am shot up bad; you just cannot see it, for this mare lyin’ atop me." A shudder rippled through Orville, and he moaned. "She sure did her share, broke my ribs all to pieces."

"Get this damn carcass off ‘em?" Lafayette shouted, moving to grab hold of the horse. "I got to tell y’all everything!”

Brody pulled him back. "Doc said, levering the weight off would only…” his eyes met Orville’s, and he swallowed hard, “…kill ’em faster, causing ‘em needless pain.”

Lafayette stared blankly at Brody and turned to Common, Rance, and Gideon to see if this was the truth.

Holding tight to Orville’s other hand, Gideon looked pointedly to the ground. Following his eyes, Lafayette saw the legs of Gideon’s pants were as soaked in blood as the ground surrounding him. Inhaling deep, he came back to Orville’s steel-gray eyes, taking up his limp hand.

Orville smiled, the same loose smile he had always had, and at that moment, it came to Lafayette of a Massey harvest celebration from years past. There had been a pig roast followed by a dance, and like usual, as the stars began dotting the sky, the younger children were dragged off to bed. Except this time, he had been considered old enough to stay up. When the other boys decided to get up a game of tag, it had been Orville who chose him for his team.

As the memory unfolded, Lafayette recalled the bigger boys had been slamming him in the dirt whenever they tagged him. After a couple of times, Orville shoved his way through those laughing, and pulling Lafayette up, had stood over him, rebuking ‘just cause he is smaller ain’t right to treat ‘em worse than ya would a dog.’ A hard lump formed in Lafayette’s throat, and tears burned his eyes.

Orville pulled his hand from Gideon, enclosing Lafayette’s in both his giant paws, “it will be all right.”

Lafayette shook his head, “you recall that first time you chose _moi_ for your team in tag.”

“Yeah, ya did not even reach my elbow, damn, but you were small.”

Dragging his teeth across his lower lip, Lafayette asked, “ _qu’elle_ am I to do? You _toujours_ defended _moi._ ”

“Not always.” Orville chuckled softly and groaned, “just when ya needed it, and ya ain’t needed it for some time.” He squeezed Lafayette’s hand, “this ain’t ya fault, and I mean it, ya been the frettingest soul I ever did know; we all done knew what ridin’ the Border might mean.”

The tang of blood was in Lafayette’s nose, and he wanted to gag, for it was the smell of his friend dying, to quell the urge he bit hard of the inside of his cheek.

“Want ya to keep up the hunt, and watchin’ over all of’n these fools, ya is damn good at both.”

Lafayette nodded.

Tears sliding from the corner of his eyes, Orville nodded back, and reaching behind him, he grasped Thaddeus’ face and neck. “I always admired ya, even as a pup, ya would not hang tail and run for nuthin’.” Orville’s face contorted, and he gritted his teeth, trying to contain a moan. After a drawn-out minute, he said, “Ya kill a mess of ‘em, Yanks for me, Baby Crowe.”

Not trusting his voice, Thaddeus nodded hard, his head bobbing in Orville’s palm.

Orville began choking, his hand falling to land on the horse crushing him, and Thaddeus tried to raise him. “No, Taddy, stop!” He drew a slow breath, “I am fine; pain is slippin' some." He stilled, his eyes watching the drifting clouds, when suddenly he lurched, calling out, "Gideon!"

"Right here, Pal,” grabbing Orville’s hand, Gideon leaned in close. “Right here.”

“Ya tell my family, tell ‘em, I am apologetic I did not keep my promise.”

Gideon nodded, inhaling hard, his face contorting, “I will.”

Grief replaced the pain etched in Orville’s face, “tell Ma, tell’er I love ‘er.”

“I will. I will.”

"Ya been a good pal, Gid, and Ma; she always liked you. She will take it best from ya." His mouth opened and closed a few times, and then his tongue swiped across his lower lip. "Time will come, we will see each other again….” that hound dog smile of Orville’s broke free, his eyes scrolling across the pale faces of his friends, “…. just none of you go makin’ it too soon.”

After each had nodded to him, he closed his eyes.

Out in the darkness, there were cries from wounded. Yet, those near Orville did not notice. They were all watching his labored breathing and dealing with the grief welling up so strong within them, and with a long, low sigh Orville slipped away.

Their anguish hung thick, not one of them moving until Thaddeus tenderly laid Orville’s head on the ground. Standing, Thaddeus stared down on the man who had watched over him, and with a gulping sound, he bolted into the night.

Lafayette’s dark, glistening eyes regarded those in the circle, seeing each not as they were now, but as the boys he had known all his days. Some refused to meet his eyes while others stared blankly back. Making the sign of the cross, he whispered a prayer, releasing Orville’s cooling hand. Then concentrating on sounding as he believed a leader should, he pushed from the ground, asking, “anyone unaccounted for?"

The question jerked everyone up, and they hastily searched faces, tallying who was and was not present.

Lighting a torch, Rance said, "let us do a muster count.” Handing the torch to Common, he lit another for Fox, and one more for Clyde.

They spread across the valley, calling out when they found one of theirs. Although, if they discovered an invader in blue, they would pause, long enough to disarm them, before continuing with their investigation. Toward the west wall, a pistol barked, once and then again. Brody pivoted to the sound, his brows furrowing deep. “Lafe?”

“ _Qu’elle?”_

“Where is Taddy?”

Lafayette turned rigidly to the sound, “most likely a _cheval_ being put down.”

They both saw the brilliant blossom even before the sound reached them.

Brody shook his head, “I gotta terrible fuckin’ feelin’ it ain’t horses.”

All color drained from Lafayette, and he took off toward where they had seen the last shot fired. “Taddy!” He ran as he never had before, “Taddy!”

A strangled answer of “go away,” drifted to Lafayette from a voice being barely recognizable as his brother’s, and he knew Brody was correct. It was not horses being put down.

In the moonlight, he saw Thaddeus’ scoop up a revolver, tossing it away. The revolver had been lying next to a wounded soldier, and as Thaddeus straightened, he aimed a Colt at the man’s head.

“TADDY… _non…NON!”_

"Orville wants _moi_ to kill ‘em a mess of Yanks.”

"He did not mean like this." Walking up slowly, Lafayette held out a hand, “not like this, this ain't right."

" _Qu’elle_ the fuck are we supposed to do with 'em?"

"We will leave, and they can see to their own.”

Thaddeus’ hand holding the long barrel Colt began to shake.

Edging closer, Lafayette coaxed, “this ain’t what Orville meant.”

Thaddeus’ voice cracked as he hollered, “they fuckin’ killed Orville!”

Low and toneless, Lafayette replied, "war killed, Orville.” Slowly, he reached out, “just as it most likely will all of’n us.” Wrapping his hand about the revolver’s cylinder, his index finger fitting over the cap, he tugged, and Thaddeus let him have the Colt. Levering the hammer down, Lafayette shoved the pistol in his pant line.

Thaddeus stumbled back several steps.

Glancing first at the half-conscious man laid out on the ground, Lafayette followed his brother, pulling him into his arms.

Thaddeus allowed the comfort for the briefest moment then jerked away, thickly muttering, “he shielded _moi_."

" _Qu’elle_?"

"He just poked at _moi_ all the damn time. Kept after _moi_ ‘till times were I wanted to beat ‘em down.” Thaddeus sniffed hard. “ _Feu de l'enfer_ , whenever he got _moi_ so pissed I broke into a rant of curses, he would start laughin’ like all get out.”

“I know,” Lafayette replied.

“Why would he fuckin' forfeit his life for _moi,_ ” Thaddeus panted, his breathing sounding like a winded horse.

Wrapping an arm about his neck, Lafayette reeled him in, the same as he had done the night Sienna burned.

Thaddeus broke; sobs ripping from him.

Keeping an eye on the downed soldier, Lafayette held his brother tight.

"I fucked up, and Orville saved _moi_. Why the hell would he do such a thing?”

“I deem, Orville saw you like a _frère petit_ and savin’ you was _qu’elle_ he chose to do."

"Was not his fuckin’ choice to make!"

"It _was_ utterly Orville’s to make."

Shoving free, Thaddeus squalled, "It was not!”

Licking his dry lips, Lafayette said, “Taddy---”

“Break off fuckin’ callin’ _moi_ , Taddy like I am some _bébé_. If'n, Orville had not been thinkin' of _moi_ as a _bébé_ needing guardin’….” Thaddeus slapped a hand down his face, smearing his tears. “…he would still be alive!"

Lafayette’s heart leapt painfully as he thought, ‘And you would be dead.’

“Do you understand _qu’elle_ I am fuckin’ sayin’?”

Lafayette replied in the most sedate tone he could muster. “I will put effort into not callin’ you Taddy any longer.”

Thaddeus sniffed, throwing his head back. “ _Bonne_ …‘cause I ain’t a _bébé garçon_. ”

“You are not.” Lafayette looked to the soldier, who had moaned lowly, then back to his brother, “Tad, go round up a few of your pals--”

“Why for?”

“To assist you in packing camp and havin’ _chevals_ ready for travel. It will be dawn soon, and I want us out of here before the sun tops the ridge."

Thaddeus tilted his head to one side. “Are you so dead inside…you feel nothing?"

"I feel. Feel more than you realize. However, I ain't goin’ to allow you to bait _moi_ into a _mêlée_ to ease your pain _._ Now _,_ do as I said, ‘cause I…” Lafayette thumped his chest, “…need to find out if’n tonight, Orville was the only _une,_ I _had_ killed followin’ _moi_."

Feeling more than a bit ashamed for pushing his brother, Thaddeus nodded briskly and trotted back to camp.

When he was away, Lafayette fell to a knee, tipping his face heavenward. " _P_ _ar Dieu, m’ ami,_ I have _non_ words to express _m’_ gratitude.” From beneath his shirt, he pulled a rosary, rubbing its graven image while making the sign of the cross. “May the Saints send angels to lead you home to your eternal rest. May _Dieu’s_ light shine on you, blotting away sins committed in human weakness, and through his mercy, may you rest in peace. Amen.” Bowing his head, Lafayette kissed the crucifix, “ _Bonjour, m’ ami.”_

Putting weight on his knee to stand, a cough startled Lafayette, and drawing a Colt, he spun with one leg extended, braced for firing.

The wounded soldier had pushed himself up on an elbow and was holding a palm out in surrender. “I am not armed; Mister and I am apologetic for the friend you both lost.”

Standing, Lafayette walked closer.

“Sounds like he was a good man, and by your actions, I would say, you are too.” The man tried to smile, but the pain he felt made it more of a grimace. “I want to say thank you for saving me."

"I did not do it for you."

“Even so, you did right by me, and I appreciate what you did, so thank you.”

Lafayette’s face pinched, and the loathing in his voice was not lost, despite how softly he replied. “You can give your thanks to _Dieu_ , ‘cause I do not want any of it.”


	40. Chapter THIRTY-EIGHT

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Jackson peered over at Lafayette; his brow creased with a frown developing.

Alert to his concern, Lafayette shook his head, gesturing to Shepherd Pruitt. “How bad?”

“Holed him straight through without hitting the bone.”

Lafayette nodded, dragging his teeth across his lower lip.

"Do not tarry a thought over me, Capt’,” Shepherd said, his pale blue eyes shifting to Orville's covered form, where another lay beside him.

Lafayette flipped back the blanket, revealing Edward Reginald.

The day Edward had joined them in Harrisonville, Lafayette had been unsure but too hungover to argue the matter. His misgivings stemmed from Edward's overtly proper town upbringing and that he was known for being the bookish sort. Still, the diminutive man had done his best to keep up, never once shirking in battle. Edward had proved to be a sound thinker and a good Ranger even though he was blind as a bat in a hailstorm without the thick glasses he kept strapped to his face. Strangely enough, the bullet that killed Edward had done so without breaking his glasses, for right between his closed eyes was a perfectly round, blood-caked hole. Feeling cold all the way through, Lafayette flipped the blanket back, asking, “anyone else?”

“Not sure,” Jackson answered, tying off the final stitch he had run through Shepherd’s arm. “How is Tad?"

Lafayette shrugged.

Jackson's face twitched, and he shot a hard look at Lafayette. “Then, I will check him over, myself.” Nipping the stitching thread, he stuck the needle in his shirt collar. “How else is he?"

Removing his hat, Lafayette ran a hand through his hair. “He says Orville saved 'em."

Standing so silent, no one had noticed him, Jimmy Gamble cleared his throat, saying, "he did at that.”

From the slant of his eye, Lafayette contemplated Jimmy, fiddling with the leather tie that secured his Colt in its holster.

“Orville did not hesitate, just stepped right into that shot that be having Tad’s name on it.” He peeked over at Orville’s body, “then when things be going from worse to worse, he be pushing Tad clear of the crashing horse.”

Rubbing a hand across his mouth, Lafayette reset his hat on his head and walked off.

“Capt?” Jimmy called. Getting no answer, he called again, “Lafayette?”

“Let him be for a spell,” Jackson said, rocking back on his heels. “Shep, I want you to find a spot out of the way and sit still. I have no time to be re-stitching this if you set it to bleedin’ again."

Shepherd scratched the back of his head, "as you say, Doc."

From beyond the glow of the fire, a voice stringently cried, “Doc??”

Jackson shouted, “Here! Bring ‘em in.”

Shepherd poked him in the leg, “ain’t every group lucky enough to have their own Doc.”

A scowl darkened Jackson’s gentle, boyish looks, and he muttered, “wish none of y’all ever needed me.”

As the blackness of night shifted to purplish gray, the Rangers were already on the narrow path to the pool that overflowed down to the valley. Pulling up in little groups along the limestone ridge, they gave their horses a breather after the steep climb and double-checked their hastily packed gear.

Brody sat silent on his horse, scrutinizing the secluded valley so far below, thinking. ‘Lafe was correct.’ For no sooner had they cleared out, then the less wounded invaders began hobbling about tending to their companions.

During their decamp, Charlie Hammel had given a torch to a walrus mustached invader, who had begged for some light. On returning to his friends, Charlie bluntly announced with a nod of his head to the flickering torch, “Missouri Home Guard.”

An ominous silence floated amongst the Rangers as they appraised the Home Guard, each brewing more hatred for these men of their own State who had snuck in to kill them in the night.

A toneless laugh flowed from Valentine McCane. “Sure, do loathe them Home Guard bastards.” Spitting over the cliff, he waved a hand at the remains of their camp, “was a damn good spot, and now they done run us off.”

Having finished balancing his saddlebags' weight, Rance casually laid his arm across Big Mack’s rump. His gaze drifted to their Captain, who was not appraising the valley but Valentine. With a slight smirk, Rance matter of factly asked, “Val, how ‘bout you tell us all where you were last night?"

Valentine hitched a thumb to Lafayette, sneering, “why not ask ‘em? It were him that assigned me to sentry."

At once, the group looked to their Captain, and those closest saw his eyes were shiny black as crow feathers in the sun, and if possible, would have burned a hole straight through Valentine.

Hearing no reply, Valentine turned to Lafayette, and on seeing those eyes, he shrank in his saddle.

Nudging Jericho, so he moved up alongside Valentine, Lafayette said, “ _Vous_ are correct. In that spot, ain’t anyone could pass by without being seen."

Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, Valentine passed a wolfish grin to those watching. "Ya ain’t gonna hang last night on me, _Lafayette_!" Turning his horse, so he faced Rance, he cajoled, "Ya is the eldest, and I say you would make a better leader, and we all oughta vote on it here, and now.”

From beneath the bandage encircling his head where a bullet had burned his skull, Thaddeus’ rising anger was vivid in his drawn, pale face.

Valentine gave Thaddeus a quick once over, and with a half-shrug, drawled, “well, should we put it to a vote.”

Pushing off Big Mack with a twisted scowl, Rance turned his back fully on Valentine.

A sheen of sweat appeared on Valentine’s upper lip, and he pointed accusingly at Hiram Haller. “I sat myself right where Hi was, so maybe he moved and...”

Hiram was too big of a man to toy with, and when his jaw tightened, Valentine’s eyes widened. Gulping a breath, he swung back on Lafayette. “It does not matter, ‘cause it were ya who assigned us to such a poor lookout point and, that is why those dirty bastards got in."

"Hogwash!" Hiram spat, "that is the same spot we all sat in these past weeks, allowed a damn fine view of the north pass.”

Others nodded in agreement, and Lafayette coldly said, "it had naught to do with location.”

"Well, uh...” Valentine’s eyes narrowed, pulling together, “they must have found another way in." Placing a hand to his chest, he turned to the watching Rangers, “I tell y’all, I was precisely where _Captain Crowe_ ordered me to be."

Slipping a foot from his stirrup, Lafayette asked, " _Vous_ were, were _vous_?"

Throwing his shoulders back, Valentine spat, "Damn right, I was!"

Nearly choking on his rage, Lafayette kicked Valentine, knocking him right out of his saddle. "Then _vous_ were fuckin' asleep."

Rolling over with a grunt, Valentine gasped, "I were not."

"The _vous_ abandoned _vous_ post, and either way all that happened, includin’, Orville and Eddie’s deaths are ‘cause of _vous_."

Searching for the faces of his pals Charlie Hammel, Stephen Simms, and Michael Rose, Valentine pleaded, “I was not asleep, I was right there."

Charlie and Stephen turned away, but Michael Rose’s strange, round, ashy colored eyes remained focused on Valentine.

“I was right where I was supposed to be, Rose… I was.”

"Then, Capt’ said it right; you were fuckin’ sleepin’."

Scrambling to his knees, Valentine cried out, “I swear to God, I was not."

His supplicating plea brought forth a laugh from Lafayette. Except, it had a hollow sound like a door slamming in a vacant building. “ _Jesus pleura,_ I might be young; however, I was not born last year. If'n there is _une_ damn point I have learned… any statement which follows, I swear to God is an unmitigated lie."

Valentine struggled to his feet, gripping tight of his ribs, where Lafayette’s boot had struck. "Y’all know me, y’all know I would not do what he is sayin’."

One-by-one, the Rangers pointed their horses up the trail. As they passed Valentine, he poured out excuses that only garnered him disgusted looks until the only one standing on the ridge with him was Lafayette.

“Here, though, is God’s truth….” Lafayette said, speaking each word sharp and clear, “ain’t any of’n us who would trust their life to _vous_. Find someone else to ride with; _vous_ are _non_ longer welcome here.”

Reining around to follow the others, Lafayette discovered Gideon waiting at the mouth of the trail. “Gid?”

Gideon’s hazel eyes, beneath the brim of his floppy gray hat, were flat and cold as a frozen pond. Quietly replied, “he ain’t to be trusted. Ride on, and I will catch up.”

Lafayette glanced back at Valentine, “Uh, Gid?”

“Get clear, Lafayette.”

“I do not—"

Cutting him off, Gideon hissed, “now!”

Lafayette’s mouth quirked, and in the end, he gave into Gideon Barnett, who had been not only one of Orville’s close friends, but Gabriel’s also.

When Jericho was well up the trail, Gideon rode to Valentine.

"Hot damn, Gid, ya, believe me!” Valentine cheered, his smile oily as he chuckled, “should have figured ya would recall I am a straight talker, not like that damn skunk, Crowe."

Gideon rode in closer, and abruptly he drew his revolver, striking Valentine full in the face with the Colt’s eight-inch long barrel.

Staggering from the blow, Valentine put a hand to the blood welling from the jagged, split along his cheekbone.

“Throw your pistols over the edge,” Gideon demanded.

Valentine’s nostrils flared.

“If’n ya think I will not shoot ya.” Gideon thumbed back the Colt Army’s hammer, spitting a stream of chaw on the ground, “ya are fixin’ to find out how wrong ya are. Now toss ‘em."

A shaky breath escaped Valentine. His wary eyes never leaving Gideon, he began tossing his pistols away. "I thought ya were my pal."

"I was." Gideon shifted the chaw in his cheek. “Hell, we all was and more than any of’n us, Lafayette… as he regularly defended your sorry ass.”

“So, ya is just abandonin’ me.”

Gideon snorted, “Ya abandoned us, Val, so go home. Just go home, ain’t no Ranger unit should have to drag ya deadweight along with ‘em." Pointing the revolver barrel directly at Valentine’s head, Gideon grimly said, "and, if‘n ya follow us, there are several who will have no qualms ‘bout puttin’ ya in the ground so fast, the devil will not even have time to set ya place at the table." He smiled, “myself, included.”

Blood dripped to Valentine’s shirt front, and his eyes dropped to the crimson stain.

“That scar is to remind you…” Gideon gigged his mare forward, forcing Valentine to stumble backward. “… every fuckin’ time ya look in the mirror how ya failed ya pals. How ya put us all in danger, and that Orville and Eddie’s deaths are on your soul."

Laying a heel to his mare, the horse spun, taking up the trail so fast, her hooves flung rocks down to clack and roll about Valentine’s feet.

Gideon trotted by Lafayette, easing in beside Rance, who was leading Buster McKenzie’s horse, which Orville was draped across, as Buster had been given Orville’s bigger, faster mount, Crowe’s Blood Zephyr. Flashing a look back to the ridge where Valentine stood, Gideon growled, "Fuckin', lyin', yellow, no-good bastard."

Rance darkly mumbled, “figured you were goin’ to shoot ‘em.”

“Seriously considered it.”

“He deserves it.”

Hearing them, Lafayette too looked back, except he skipped over Valentine to the valley. He could not see Eddie’s grave beneath the spreading limbs of a cottonwood. Still, he knew it was there. Plucking the partially smoked cigar from his hatband, Lafayette lit it.

Blue smoke billowed from him, wafting through the trees, and in the streaming dawn light, it somehow appeared spiritual. Following the ascension of the curling, shifting smoke Lafayette blinked against the dampness in his eyes, wishing he could find words to describe how he felt.

On breaching the top of the trail, they rode into a green meadow dotted with bobbing white daisies. Reining Jericho in, Lafayette allowed him to crop grass, calling, "Tad."

Thaddeus promptly rode over.

“Want you to take 'em all and resupply." Removing his wallet from his vest, Lafayette extended it to his brother.

Thaddeus’ brows dropped.

“Take it. I have some spare tucked away.”

Uncertainty shadowed Thaddeus’ eyes, but still, he took the wallet.

“I wish we knew where Eddie’s _famille_ fled when Harrisonville was overrun, but we all know where the Riggs farm is…” Lafayette absently said, running Jericho’s long mane through his fingers. “I am ridin’ with Gid and Rance to take ‘em home.”

Feeling a flopping fluttering in his stomach, Thaddeus repeated back, “you are ridin’ to the Riggs place?”

“Feel I owe it to Orville,” Lafayette replied tonelessly, thoughtfully scanning his tired, bloody Rangers bunched close like a flock of geese. “Want you to lead ’em.”

“ _Moi_ lead?” Thaddeus replied, glancing about feeling his chest tightening.

Lafayette passed him a small smile and a smaller nod, “ _vous_ can do it.”

Thaddeus’ shoulders squared, “well, where do you want us to meet y’all?”

Lafayette angled his eyes down in thought, and Rance suggested, “Mattison Valley.”

Lafayette’s eyes switched to Thaddeus, “you know where it is?”

Thaddeus forehead wrinkled, “ _non._ ”

Raising his voice, Lafayette called, “who knows trails to Mattison Valley along the Blue?”

Bill Carr answered, “Been pals with John Mattison for years, I know where the valley is on his range.”

Returning his attention to his brother, Lafayette said, “you know where it is now, well at least Carr does, so you will, too.”

Thaddeus nodded.

“We _trois_ will meet y’all in _non_ more than _quatre_ days. If ‘n y’all are not there, we will trail north beside the Blue River until we find sign of y’all.”

Reining Cain to face Orville’s tied-down body, Thaddeus straightened in his saddle, sharply raising his right hand in salute. As one, the others turned their mounts doing the same for their fallen comrade. After a long, silent moment, their hands lowered, and Thaddeus called, “fall in.”

Brody Johnson rode past Lafayette, Gideon, and Rance; with a smart nod to them, he closed up the rear ranks of the thirty-two men disappearing into the trees.

Rance stoically asked, “you think he is up to it?”

Corners of Lafayette’s mouth curled up, “ _Mon_ Father wrote _moi_ , when I was in _Louisiane,_ how Tad had changed.” He looked to his companions, “said the joker, trouble maker, mischievous child was gone. I recall thinkin’ that was impossible. Yet, when Tad delivered our _chevals_ to _L'Eau Sucrée,_ I learned then how much he had changed…. matured. And, last night, he changed more.” Nodding, more to himself than to the pair sitting beside him, Lafayette firmly, even proudly said, “Tad will not only lead ‘em; he will guard over ‘em. So, for now…” his eyes scrolled to the deserted tree line, “they are _his_ Crowe Rangers.”


	41. Chapter THIRTY-NINE

Chapter Thirty-Nine

**Wednesday 20 th of May 1863**

All-day Lafayette, Gideon, and Rance had ridden the overgrown trails along the Blue River. There had been no wind since dawn, and the heat hung shimmering between the trees. Yet, with night, a welcome coolness came to the forest, and they continued on like shadows. The years of living under the sky had trained them to categorize sounds without consideration from a bird finding a roost compared to one startled into flight. So, even as the sounds of night rose throatily about them, they readily detected the faint clink of metal on rock and turned their horses.

Since departing the Riggs Farm, they had traveled with their senses taut, keeping to the shadows, avoiding enemy patrols as they rode to rejoin their Unit.

Over the wearisome, hot days of riding the Blue River region, the trio had sarcastically jested how being this far north to regroup might have been a touch foolhardy. Yet inwardly, Lafayette cursed himself.

He knew Captain Quantrill preferred ranging near Kansas City, and it was this knowledge that had made him selfishly choose the Mattison Valley. For he wanted the locations of the names of those who had destroyed Sienna, which Quantrill teased of knowing, last winter. Yet, when they reached the Valley, their friends had already departed. Subsequently, the longer it took to track them, the more irritable Lafayette’s shame made him.

Ahead, the soft sounds of a hidden camp were becoming more distinct. Feeling the tightness of his body, Lafayette reined in, speaking in the barest whisper to his companions, “do not shoot unless you know.”

With grunted agreements, they waded on through the night with revolvers weighing down their right hands. Although, it was not genuinely dark to them as their eyes had adjusted as night manifested. Therefore, when two figures stepped from the inky shadows, their appearance came as no outright surprise.

“Be ‘bout time ya be catching up.”

“Well, hot damn, howdy, Jimmy,” Gideon replied, his words ringing with pure happiness.

“How do, Gid.” Stepping forward, Jimmy laid a hand on Jericho, “Lafayette, it be mighty good to be having y’all home with us.”

Doubt filled Lafayette’s chest, and he hastily asked, “Why? Did Tad—"

“The boyo did right fine, right fine. Just be glad to have y’all back safe.”

Stepping heavily down from his horse, Lafayette placed his hands to the small of his back, arching it. “And Jimmy, I am glad to be back also.” He yawned, “Sleep happens a whole lot less when pals do not surround you.”

Leaving the sentries, they were heartily welcomed as they entered camp with offers to have their horses taken. After searching the ravines and gullies of the Blue these past days, they were appreciative to hand off the task of caring for their mounts.

As Lafayette removed his saddlebags and bedroll, Quinton said, “we did not stay at the Mattison; the area was too crowded. This ain’t been so bad; we have been here two days, doin’ scoutin’ expeditions for y’all.” Quinton’s voice dropped lower, and he peered around Jericho at Lafayette, “we all were getting’ a bit anxious.”

Lafayette slanted an eye to his friend, who had once been a West Point cadet, “did he do all right?

“Nothing to complain about; he led well.”

Shouldering his gear, Lafayette scanned the small meadow, and Quinton pointed to a tree whose base was more massive than three trees clumped together. “He is camped to the north of that giant.”

“ _Merci,_ for taking Jericho for _moi._ ”

Quinton shrugged, “easy enough.”

“Appreciate it though, see you in the mornin’,” Lafayette replied, patting his horse’s neck, he made for the giant Elm, but before he reached it, Thaddeus was standing before him.

“ _Bonjour, Grand Frère.”_

“ _Zut,_ but it is _bonne_ to see you.”

Clapping an arm about his elder brother’s shoulders, leading him to his campsite, Thaddeus said, “there is hot _café_.”

“I could use some,” Lafayette replied, rolling out his bedroll and removing his holsters; he placed them near the blanket. Taking a seat, he pulled his boots, stretching his toes with a satisfied groan.

Thaddeus handed down a steaming cup.

Lafayette gingerly took a drink, and as its heat flowed through him, he thought, ‘damn, but it does feel _bonne_ to be back.’

Propping himself against the base of the tree, Thaddeus stretched out his legs and set to building himself a smoke while studying his brother, allowing him to enjoy his coffee in silence.

Having finished one quirley, Thaddeus rolled several more, storing them in a metal tin. Placing one between his lips, he struck a match across the sole of his boot, cupping the flame as soon as it sparked, lighting his quirley, he shook the match out. After taking a long drag, he, at last, asked, “how did it go at the Riggs?”

A rush of air escaped Lafayette in a woosh, and in a cool hard tone, he replied, “ _Chiant!_ How do _vous_ think it went?”

Thaddeus looked off and away, knowing that he would see his brother’s left dimple pulsing if it were lighter. Placing the quirley to his lips, he inhaled, the thin paper burning most of the way back. Holding the smoke in his lungs, he released it slowly. “Lafe, I ain’t tryin’ to fight.”

“I know. It…it was hard, damn hard. _Madame_ Riggs was grateful we brought him, praised us, on and on, like us bringin’ her dead _fils_ home was the nicest thing ever happened to her.” Lafayette took a drink, hoping the heat would clear out the lump taking up residence in his throat. “We got’em buried.”

Thaddeus took one last drag of his quirley, tossing it by his boots when the ember singed his fingers, and standing, he ground the spark into the dirt. “Here.” He held out his hand, “I will refill your cup.”

Lafayette handed it over, “ _merci._ ”

Thaddeus returned from the central fire, with a cup for himself also, and after handing Lafayette his, he removed his flask, dumping liberal amounts in each before retaking his spot by the tree.

“Their place is an utter shambles.” Lafayette shook his head, taking a drink. “The Riggs _toujours_ kept their place neat as a ship’s deck. It sure ain’t that way _non_ more. Beth said, leavin’ it untidy invites fewer visitors. She told _moi_ this when she saw _moi_ starin’ at the half-burnt barn and the pile of debris scattered along the side their drive.”

“How is Beth and his other sisters? I ain’t seen them in I cannot even recall when.”

Lafayette’s eyes slanted to Thaddeus, “thin, tired, just pale pictures of themselves.”

Thaddeus fiddled with his cup; his face fixed in a frown. “It is like you told _moi_ before you went to New Orleans, we ain’t goin’ to win this fuckin’ war.”

Lafayette finished his coffee and tossed the dregs away before saying, “ _non,_ we will not.” Rubbing of his bad knee, he thought, ‘been aching most of the day, must be rain comin’.’ Turning his cup, upside down near his holsters, he asked, “how did the past days go?”

“Not _mal._ ” Thaddeus’ head turned toward camp, and he shrugged, “not _mal_ at all. We came upon some Red Legs havin’ a turkey shoot on some _garçons_ they had pinned down.” A small sardonic chuckle escaped Thaddeus that caught Lafayette’s attention.

“ _Qu’elle?_ ”

“We charged down their line, rather than at it, and it is downright astoundin’ how fuckin’ fast men can scramble when they realize they are ‘bout to be fuckin’ trampled. So, while they was cursin’ and scurryin’ we up and had us our own turkey shoot.” Itching of his Van Dyke beard, Thaddeus quirked a half-smile. “Gotta say though, those Red Legs are _bonne_ at takin’ their dead and wounded with ‘em. Still, near as I figure, we sent at least ten to fifteen on their way with grievances to bother ‘em for months to come.”

Lafayette smiled, slipping back into his role of riding the Border as opposed to how he had been feeling after seeing firsthand what the War was doing to citizens. “Who did y’all rescue?”

A laugh burst from Thaddeus. “ _Frère_ , I can tell you, they did not feel we rescued ‘em. Man alive, that Scottish _bâtard_ sure can cuss up a storm when he sets his mind to it.”

Considering his words, Lafayette drug his lower lip through his teeth, and it came to him, “Ohhh…. tell _moi_ it was not Capt’ Parr and his Red Oak _garçons._ ”

Thaddeus grinned so big; his teeth shined in the dark.

“I bet he did give y’all a ribbin’.” A laughed that shook Lafayette’s shoulders rolled from him. “Capt’ Parr, sure ain’t _une_ to accept anything he considers charity.”

“You hit the fuckin’ barrel on the head there.”

“I take it there are _non_ Red Oaks with us now?” Lafayette asked, glancing at the other campsites.

“You are fuckin’ correct.”

“Did he ever thank y’all at all?”

“I would say so. As Parr did present us with several bottles of whiskey, ‘course, he made it known that _non_ Scotsman ever required assistance from _non_ Frenchie.”

Chuckling, Lafayette asked, “any of that whiskey left?”

“I just poured the last of it in your cup.”

“Well, _merde,_ ” Lafayette groaned, stretching out on his blanket and putting his hands behind his head, “anything else happen?”

Moving to his bedroll, Thaddeus pulled off his boots.

When he had not answered, Lafayette raised his head, repeating his question.

“T’weren’t nothing I could not handle.”

A little roughly, Lafayette said, “Tad?!”

“Damn _Grand Frère,_ cease frettin’ and go to sleep.”

During the night, thunder rumbled, rain spattering on those curled in blankets below the forest canopy. Lafayette slept on burrowing deeper, not waking until the black sky was turned gray by morning’s sunlight.

Sitting up, he smiled at his brother, who was nothing more than a lump under the blanket, he had pulled all the way over his head. Drawing on his boots, Lafayette swung his holster about his hips, padding to the central campfire.

The night’s rain had left the forest smelling fresh and crisp. However, the area surrounding the campfire had a singularly sweet aroma as the fire had been built under a Honeysuckle. Its limbs being broken to resemble a fireplace arch, allowing the dense leaves to dissipate the smoke, leaving no clear signal for others of their camp.

Taking a seat on one of the logs, which had been carried over for just this purpose, Lafayette held his cup out to a redhead with thick muttonchops, squatted near the fire.

With a brilliant smile, the man filled Lafayette’s cup, “so ye be the Captain?”

Lafayette nodded, “and, who might you be?”

Wiping his hand across his pant leg, the wide-shouldered, slightly built man offered it to Lafayette, who promptly gave it a firm shake. “I be Martin Malone Ó Riain, folks be for callin’ me, Marty.”

“Well, Marty, where did you come from?”

“They all,” he waved a hand to the Rangers. Many of whom were coming to the fire, being rousted from their beds by the smell of coffee. “Came on me, from what I be told, the first day ye all separated. Me I were a proud member of Kelly’s Irish Brigade, but I caught a shot.” He touched his chest near his heart. “It be nearly taking me life, I nested up for a good time, and now I be back ready to fight. Except, I not be knowing where the Brigade be. Then I come upon ye boys, and I told meself, ye brother with his bright green Irish eyes look to be worth sharin’ time with.”

Plopping down next to Lafayette, close enough, he jostled him; Brody said, “see you met Marty.” He winked at the man, “watch out, Lafe, he can jaw the hind legs off a donkey.”

“Now, Boyo, I just gettin’ _ken_ of ye is all I be doin’.”

“And ye be gabbin’ a soul near deaf while ye be doin’ it,” Brody responded, in a terribly done mockery of the Irish brogue, pointing to a line of cups around the fire. “be for fillin’ me one, Boyo.”

With a tight smile, Marty handed a cup to Brody, yet there was no mistaking the menace in his tone as he said, “be keepin’ it up. . . me and me, blood, Jimmy, will be flippin’ a coin to see which of us be settin’ ye down a peg or two, Mister _Broderick_.”

“Now, Irish, I already done told you, ain’t no one, but no one to call me Broderick!”

Clyde and Reed took seats, with JT cheerfully asking, “Hey, Brody, you goin’ to give him a demonstration.”

At JT’s question, the Rangers all looked to Wade Morrow, seated on the circle's far side. Curious as to why Lafayette did the same. Then sat up so quickly, he spilled some of his coffee on seeing Wade's bent nose, his eyes ringed like a raccoon, and his left cheek bearing a line of stitches. “Brody, _qu’elle,_ the hell happened between you and Wade?”

Gulping off his hot coffee to clear his mouth, Brody said, “do not be lookin’ at me; it was not me who did that.”

Lafayette's eyebrows went up.

The group purposely ignored their Captain’s confusion.

Throwing a look to his brother, who was sitting on his bedroll smoking, Lafayette asked. “Anyone want to explain this?”

Silence answered and looking around at his Rangers; he found them all mightily interested in the depths of their coffee cups.

“Wade?”

The big mule of a man sheepishly replied, “overstepped is all.”

Walking up carrying a slab of bacon, Fox said, “I would say ya did.” Squatting by a skillet, he started slicing off meat. “Damnation, but I should have got everyone bettin’ before he tore into ya.” He shook his head, “could have made a decent pile.” Canting one narrow blue eye to the older Rangers, who tended to sit together, he grumbled, “still cannot believe y’all thought Wade would win.”

“ _Qu’elle diable_ happened?”

Once more, all eyes went to Wade, who looked to have shrunk down in size.

Leaning his way, Fox asked, “ya want to tell ’em, or shall I?”

“Go ahead.”

“On the first night, when Tad chose sentries, Wade here…”

At his name, Wade shifted.

“…said, ‘Being bigger and older, I ain’t ‘bout to allow ya to herd me around.’ Well, ya know that lit a fire in Tad. Hell, he swelled up like a pissed off guinea hen and really got down to readin’ Wade the act.”

Wade’s red face released a bit of a grin that looked like it hurt, “I should of just went on out to sentry. But Ma always did say; I am worthless at usin’ the brains God gave me.”

Having walked up behind Wade, Rance asked, “so… what did ya do?”

Wade mumbled, “rather not say it again.”

Fox barked out a laugh, his pointed smile crinkling his eyes to sparkling bits, “Bet not! Damn, but y’all missed a good one. See, the last words Wade got out were….” He paused dramatically, “…that all ya can do, Baby Crowe, is squall.”

Placing his foot on the log beside his brother, Thaddeus draped his arms across his knees.

Looking over, Lafayette noted how skinned Thaddeus’ knuckles, unlike his smiling unblemished face.

“Told you, Lafe, it was nothing I could not handle.”


	42. Chapter FORTY

Chapter Thirty-Nine

**Monday 24 th of May 1863**

Warblers, redbirds, and bobolinks darted through the trees. Their jubilant songs filling the woods and pushing his hat back, Lafayette thought. ‘Way it came down through the night and into the mornin’, figured we would be soaked to the bone all day.' Surveying his men, he smiled at how they all watched the glistening forest bordering the road with wonder. ‘Wish this were _qu’elle_ our days ever were.’ 

Settling back, he rode leisurely along, enjoying the rhythmic clopping of the horses' hooves and squeaking saddles that accompanied the birdsong. As the road curved to stream alongside the Blue River, the lapping water added its note to the melody. Losing himself in the mesmerizing dipping, swirling dance of a limb traveling the river, Lafayette came back to himself with a hard jerk. His dark eyes scanned the road and forest, and he held up a hand for his unit to halt.

Jimmy Gamble, asked in a tone of mild curiosity, “What ya be thinking?”

“That it is awfully quiet."

Jimmy’s face drew tight, and Lafayette hissed, “get into the trees.”

The command passed down the line in a hushed whisper, and no sooner were they hidden than men attired in the all too familiar blue wool breached the steep hill further up the road.

The Rangers crept silent as field mice, deeper into the trees and slipping from their saddles, they laid hands on their horses’ muzzles as five tarped wagons, surrounded by men clattered by.

Jabbing a finger at Rance and Brody, Lafayette beckoned them to him.

Once the pair had soft-footed over, he said, "want y’all to take half the men and get in front of 'em. When rest of’n us push ‘em down the road, I figure y'all will make for an unfortunate surprise for them blue bellies."

Removing their pocket watches, they adjusted their times to match, and with a wink, Brody said. "Give us fifteen minutes, Capt'."

With the supply train moving on down the road, the Rangers took time to tighten latigo ties and cinch straps. It was a routine the horses recognized, and they danced in anticipation of what was to come.

Jericho’s muscles flinched along his body when Rance and Brody led half the unit away. Those left behind bunched near their Captain. Nodding to them, Lafayette said, “do not let it slip your mind; our own will be leapin’ into the road further on.”

Pocketing his watch, Lafayette threw a devil may care smile to his brother and slammed his heels down. Jericho took off with a strident snort, and Lafayette sprang into the road with a rebel yell.

The five troopers on rear guard spun their horses, showing their greenness as they fumbled at their holsters' leather flaps.

Lafayette’s LeMat sprayed flame and grapeshot, causing shrieks of pain and curses to erupt from the men. He pivoted the LeMat’s striker with a boyish grin to turn it from the shotgun bore back to revolver firing. The striker jammed. With a snarl, Lafayette tried again, a bullet hissing by him. When the striker would not move, he cursed fluidly, dropping the LeMat, to bounce from its lanyard ring alongside his saddle as he snagged a revolver from his pommel holsters.

When the booming roar of the LeMat ignited the battle, Thaddeus dropped his tied-split reins. Steering Cain with his legs, he fired a pair of Colt revolvers, each blue coat looming before him becoming a target.

A lean sallow-faced scarecrow of a man bore down on JT, shooting rapidly. JT fired back, his shot missing by a long way. Except, blood burst in a spray from the scarecrow's chest. JT ran on, searching another target, as this one had been eliminated by one of his fellow Rangers.

Feeling the hot burn of a bullet across his chest, Thaddeus gasped, even as another burrowed into his right leg. Dropping one of the Colts, he grabbed his reins. A pain-ridden scream of fury ripping from him, he steered Cain into the horse of the tall, long-armed soldier firing on him.

Cain hit the animal full-on, and the horse skated across the mud. Its rider shifted in his saddle, pulling on his reins to aid his horse in getting his feet back under him. While distracted, Thaddeus shot the tall man, his head snapped back, dead before he hit the muddy road.

Rance and Brody exited the woods with their half of the Rangers, so abruptly, the pair of stout gray Missouri mules pulling the lead wagon balked with deepthroated brays. Their startled driver scrambled for the shotgun, leaning against his seat. But Rance knocked him sideways with a .44 from his Starr revolver before he could raise it.

The Rangers surged down the sides of the supply train like a raging river. About them, the air buzzed, lead tearing through man and beast alike as the trees showered them with green leaves and small branches.

Bending low across his horse’s neck, Fox aimed at a soldier shooting from a wagon tailgate. Although, before he could fire, the churned mud caused Ebby to slip. The red gelding stumbled, his rear end sliding.

Flinging himself from his crashing horse, Fox rolled along the muddy road, coming to a halt before a blonde-haired youth, no older than himself, desperately trying to replace a used-up cylinder. Still, gripping tight of his revolver, Fox pulled the trigger. The blonde sank to both knees. Fox’s second shot entered, no more than a hand’s width from his first, and the soldier fell with a splat in the mud.

Up and down the supply train, Rangers spun their horses searching targets. Only all that was left of the battle was the mud splashed on everything, smoke, and the shrill ringing in their ears.

Grinning slyly, Lafayette gloated, “ _feu de l'enfer_ , Jackson, that pulled off better than if’n I had taken time to plan it."

“It did,” Jackson answered, jabbing his revolver at two men riding up in dark four-pocket war tunics of a different style from those worn by the Crowe Rangers.

Turning on them, Lafayette chuckled, smiling invitingly, “Why _bonjour,_ we been searchin’ for y'all." 

Stroking his black beard, John McCorkle replied, "y'all be a-doin' a damn grand job of announcin’ ya' selves. That be for sure."

A revolver was fired somewhere among the wagons, sounding shockingly loud in the still after the battle, and the four men startled like spooked cats.

After sharing embarrassed smiles, the square-faced newcomer released a tight laugh, saying, “sounds like y’all missed one."

Jackson stiffened. But, before he could voice his disapproval of George Todd’s dark humor, Thaddeus’ rode up with a line of blood streaming from his saddle, staining Cain’s light gray coat.

Lafayette dismounted so fast, Jericho snorted, skittering away, and Thaddeus weakly joked, “slow down, _Frère,_ I ain’t dyin’ _._ ”

It was then that Cain snaked his neck out, teeth bared, and without a moment’s hesitation, Lafayette punched the stallion in his broad, flat cheek.

"Hey!” Thaddeus barked, “cease fuckin’ abusin’ _m’ garçon._ "

**"This beast needs to learn; he ain't the lead stallion."**

**“He already knows who the lead stallion is,” Thaddeus replied, his toothy smile becoming a gritted grimace as Jackson probed his leg. " _Par Dieu,_ Doc, that fuckin’ hurts."**

**McCorkle and Todd, having also dismounted, Todd turned to a handful of Lafayette’s Rangers, who had gathered around. "Come y’all, let us investigate what y’all captured."**

**Not one of them moved.**

**Todd’s neck turned crimson.**

**John McCorkle sniggered, fully knowing as one of Captain Quantrill’s lieutenants, George Todd, was not accustomed to being ignored.**

**Todd illustrated his frustration by sneering, “Damnation, Crowe, but ain’t ya got ‘em all trained right perfect to answer to ya call.”**

**Handing Cain’s reins to Jackson, Lafayette gestured to a pile of flat boulders, stacked like pancakes near the river. When he turned back, his rising rage simmered from him, singeing the very air around him.**

**Stepping over, Clyde laid a hand on his shoulder, “I got this.”**

**Lafayette’s black eyes slanted to Clyde, and their years of friendship flowed between them. They each nodded, with Lafayette saying, “y’all go with Clyde.” But before leaving, his black eyes pinned Todd, and in less time than the watchers would have bet, the older man turned his face away.**

**At the river, Jackson was cutting Thaddeus’ pant leg open. Coming up behind him, Lafayette sharply asked, “well?”**

**"It went clear through."**

**“It did!” Thaddeus gasped. "Oh, fuck, go check Cain."**

**Jackson said, “that sounds like a damn fine idea.”**

Covered from crown to toe in mud, Fox Northrup stood gawping at the blood flowing from his pal, and turning on him; Lafayette snarled, “you heard ‘em. Get!”

Shifting so he could look his pal **in the eyes, Jackson stoically said, “Bub, I was referring to _you_ as I do not need _you_ breathin’ down my neck."**

**A quick frown flashed across Lafayette’s face, and when his brother nodded in agreement, he said, “well…. Fine, I will not be far if’n you need _moi._ ” **

**Thaddeus’ stallion was currently pulling leaves from a Mulberry tree, circling away from Fox as he tried to grab hold of him. Walking over, Lafayette caught hold of the knotted reins, giving a Fox a look that encouraged the younger man to find another location to be.**

**As the redhead scurried off, Cain swung to kick Lafayette.**

**Leaping clear, Lafayette hissed, " _Zut, malheureux cheval!_ " ** **Unknotting the long reins, he spun the off-one, forcing the stallion to trot in a fast circle about him, and when he pulled Cain in, the horse stood eyeing him. “Stand!”**

**Emptying Thaddeus’ canteen across the saddle and horse, the water shifted to the hue of sacramental wine, and a shiver went down Lafayette’s back. Swallowing hard, he peeked to Jackson bent over his brother’s leg, wanting to be there but knowing first; he must complete Thaddeus’ request.**

**Pulling the saddle, he breathed, “ _par_** **_grace de Dieu,_** **” as there was not one blemish on the dapple, gray hide. Stepping clear of the stallion, Lafayette knelt, examining the saddle, discovering a spent ball along the lower edge of the tree. Prying it free with his knife, he resaddled Cain, and returning to Thaddeus, handed him the crushed ball. “He is fine. It was in your saddle tree.”**

**Gripping tight of the slug, Thaddeus lifted his crucifix that dangled about his neck along with the small silver hearts and kissed it. “ _Merci beaucoup.”_**

**Squatting, Lafayette appraised the amount of blood painting the stones and rigidness of Jackson’s face. “ _Qu’elle_ can I do?"**

**Jackson did not respond.**

**A quick frown flitted across Lafayette’s mouth, and louder, he asked, “Jackson, _qu’elle_ can I do?”**

**Jackson turned a look on Lafayette that held none of its usual warmth, and tapping his brother on the shoulder, Thaddeus declared with the firm, bluntness of a leader, “get the fuckin’ hell away from here, like Doc told ya earlier."**

**Shooting up, Lafayette spun on his heel, striding toward the wagons. As he moved through the dead, he tried to avoid seeing their frozen, twisted faces that always exhibited their last painfilled moments. ‘I loathe this the most when they are no longer our enemy but merely men. Men like us, and we ended any chances they had of fulfilling a _bonne_ life.’ Lafayette walked faster. ‘It only proves how futile war is, we killin’ them and them killin’ us.’ He rubbed a hand across his face, ‘when will it be enough?’**

**Common Smith, called, “Hey, Capt’, Tad doin’ all right?”**

**Lafayette turned to the question. His eyes taking in the groove streaming blood down the side of Common’s face and how the man’s left arm hung limp. An icy chill washed through Lafayette, the same as it did anytime, he saw one of his men bloody. Even worse, his youngest Ranger, Jeremiah Burke, was also sitting there, his face streaked with tears and a bullet in his upper arm. Forcing forth a confident smile to hide his feelings, Lafayette replied, “Tad is still cursin’, so I figure he is doin’ fine. Y’all need to go over by the river to see Doc.”**

**“Plan on it,” Common said. “I was watchin’ for someone to assist Frank.” He nodded toward the front of the wagon, whose running board he and Jeremiah were sitting on.**

**Trotting that way, Lafayette found Frank Willis struggling to untack his paint gelding, as he stood mostly on his left leg, using only one arm. The horse’s legs were spraddled, head hanging low as blood spurted from the hole in its stomach with each of its gasping breaths. Laying a hand on Frank’s shoulder, Lafayette said, “let _moi_ see to this."**

**Frank hobbled forward, taking hold of the paint’s headstall, he lifted the horse’s head. Rubbing the animal’s ear and jaw, Frank gulped, "damn, sorry, Sonny, you been a good pal."**

**Pulling the saddle, Lafayette called, “Brody, help Frank to Doc, would you? I will finish here.”**

**Sidling over to Frank, who was pressing his forehead to Sonny’s, Brody softly said, “come on, Frank.”**

**Still rubbing the horse’s face, Frank closed his eyes, “That big Dragoon of yours, still got a shot left."**

**Removing the long, heavy revolver from his back pant line, Brody checked it and laid it in Frank’s extended hand.**

**Placing the Dragoon to the horse's head, its silky forelock fell about the blue steel barrel. Frank whispered thickly, "Good-bye, Sonny.” The Dragoon sounded like a cannon when he pulled the trigger, and the paint horse dropped, a leg kicked convulsively, and then the horse was still.**

**"Thanks for offerin’, Capt’, but he was mine….” Frank sucked hard of his lower lip, “needed to be me with ’em ‘til the end.” Grabbing hold of Brody’s offered arm, he choked, “go on and take me to Doc.”**

**Gathering Frank’s gear, Lafayette deposited it in the front box seat of the wagon. As he did, George Todd hollered, waving him over. "Y'all got a damn good haul here, Crowe."**

**Lafayette thought, ‘damn well hope so, considering the injuries we took.’ Then with a sigh, he thought of Orville and Eddie, ‘least I did not lose any.’**

**On reaching the wagon, George was leaning against, Lafayette's mouth fell open when he saw the tarp had been hiding, eight barrels of black powder. Taking off his hat, he ran a hand through his hair, " _Pour l'amour de Dieu_ , we are damn lucky we did not blow ourselves up."**

**"Or the goods."**

**The corners of Lafayette's mouth dipped, finding he also did not appreciate Todd's humor. "Are all the wagon’s loaded the same?"**

**"Last two are, but the front three have foodstuff, for both man and horse."**

**Lifting his hand from the wagon sidewall, Lafayette scowled at the blood smearing his palm. ‘Afore becomin’ a Ranger, I _jamais_ would have believed blood could spurt and spray the way it does.’ Wiping his hand on the tarp, he dug out his flask. After taking a long drink, he offered some to George. **

**Taking a drink, George smacked his lips, “Where the hell ya find blackberry shine?"**

**"Got it a few days back from a kindly farmer."**

**Taking another swig, George passed it back. “You mind if’n we roll these wagons to our camp?”**

**"Not if’n we can travel along,” Lafayette replied a bit more brightly than he felt.**

**"Hell, I would drag y’all with me if’n I had to, with this load, y'all will be heroes."**

**"We were not aimin’ for that," Lafayette replied. A strange somber, almost lonely expression coming to his eyes as he considered the Union dead being piled in the forest ditch like cordwood. 'Wonder how long they will remain there until one of their side finds ‘em? Can _jamais_ shake how wrong it feels to leave ‘em so. Yet, if’n we stay to bury ‘em, their pals may come along and shoot us down.'**

**Bill Carr approached, disrupting Lafayette from his thoughts, by extending several Colt revolvers. “Gathered you some replacements.”**

**Automatically, Lafayette replied, " _merci._ ” Tucking them in his empty holsters and behind his belt. **

**Limping over, leaning heavily on Fox, Thaddeus saw the exchange. “Hey, I am down to only _m’_ Remington.”**

**Lafayette smiled at him, “I will have some brought to you. Fox find ‘em a spot in the front wagon.”**

**"I ain't ridin' in _non_ fuckin' wagon."**

**Stepping in close, Lafayette nodded to Fox, the pair of them swept Thaddeus off his feet. " _Oui,_ you damn-well are."**

**" _Zut_ , put _moi_ down."**

**"Keep squirmin' like a wet fish, and we will drop you, right proper," Fox replied.**

**Seeing them coming, Reed shifted goods to the driver’s box. Having cleared a spot, he bowed deeply, intoning in a perfect British accent. "Your carriage awaits, _Monsieur_ Crowe."**

**"Fuck you, Reed."**

**Lafayette chuckled as Thaddeus was deposited in the cleared spot, "settle in and make yourself comfortable."**

**Thaddeus’ rip-fire temper bubbled up, bringing a rush of color to his face, “I do not take kindly to bein’ told _qu’elle_ to do, and _vous_ knows it. So, I am tellin’ _vous_ I will fuckin’ ride, not sit in a wagon like some kid _.”_ **

**A muscle in Lafayette’s jaw twitched. Then one corner of his mouth drew up and arching a brow; he lightly popped Thaddeus on his upper chest, where under his shirt, he could see a bandage wrapped about his shoulder.**

**"Ow! _Zut,_ Lafe!"**

**"That in concurrence with your leg is why you are in the wagon it has naught to do with your damn age. So, sit back, and _ta gueule_ , I need to get us out of here afore this train is missed.” **


	43. Chapter FORTY-ONE

Chapter Forty

**Tuesday, 19 th of June 1863**

Quantrill’s web of spies uncovered, Fort Scott troops were to escort a supply train, which included artillery, across southeast Missouri. Being a man who wished his name idolized, Quantrill had latched tight onto the proposition of destroying the train.

After locating, a secluded ravine along the Little Osage River, near the border, Quantrill determined the time was nigh, sending out word, ‘If a man wished to participate in a decisive blow against their loathed enemy, the Kansans, the moment to gather had arrived.’

It was to this camp, George Todd escorted Lafayette’s men and their captured wagons. Over the next three weeks, the Crowe Rangers watched the camp grow. Each day, men flowed in. Eager to take part in what had been dubbed ‘Q’s Action.’ Only Captain Quantrill had not released any sort of itinerary for when his ‘Action’ would occur.

Returning from scouting maneuvers, with a collection of his Rangers, Lafayette whoa’ed Jericho. Nodding to Quantrill’s personal campsite, he said, “Reed, ride on without moi.”

Reed's thick lashes obscured his hazel eyes when he squinted in the same direction. Although, Lafayette could still make out his blatant disapproval written there. “Qu’elle?” “Whenever you converse with’em, you come to camp pissed as a coon that has been tree’d all night.”

Lafayette shrugged, “man tries my patience.”

Riding past the pair, Albert Minters dryly said, “and, we all so enjoy you when your patience has been tried.”

Several sneering retorts came to Lafayette. Instead, he kneed Jericho toward Quantrill's camp, situated under an overhanging shelf, large enough to keep several men from the elements.

At his approach, Quantrill walked out with a thumb hooked in his holster belt. “Good day, to you, Captain Crowe. Did your merry band have profitable hunting?” 

“Cleared out some Home Guards, a couple miles west of here. Ran off rabble tormentin’ a farmstead. Escorted _duex_ frightened mademoiselles to their home. Oh, and I," Lafayette's face filled with pride, "brought all _m’ garçons_ back unscathed.”

“Did none that you assisted present goods for your services?”

Lafayette shifted in his saddle, his voice harsh and loud enough to turn the heads of any near. “Even if’n they had, we would have rejected such offers as it ain’t our intention to take from those who _need_ it.”

“Heading a fighting unit of your own, Captain Crowe, I would consider you to view the needs of your men as a priority.”

Lafayette smiled in a friendly fashion, yet there was no glimmer of amiability in his dark eyes. “I see to _m’_ Ranger’s priorities without harmin’ the people of _our_ State, whom we vowed to safeguard.”

Quantrill’s jaw clenched, and he turned, dismissively. “Thank you for your scouting report, Crowe.”

“It was not _m’ raison_ for speakin’ with _vous.”_

Spinning as if struck, Quantrill's pale eyes gave Lafayette a careful appraisal.

“I would like some information.”

Quantrill’s chin raised; his face cold.

“ _Mon_ Rangers and I have run numerous errands, at your bequest, assisted in skirmishes and still _vous_ have withheld the location of the _de noms_ I showed you last fall.”

“I see, we are back to this conversation, yet again.”

“ _Oui,_ we are,” Lafayette answered, leaning his forearms across the shoulder of his saddle to look Quantrill square in the face. “I, too, find it a tiresome dialogue. We have been here weeks, and _à vrai dire,_ I have grown to doubt your intentions.”

William Clark Quantrill was a man set in his opinions. He approached each problem with what might be done to best suit him. Often considering himself better educated and more capable of leadership than others. Quite simply, he was not one to allow his judgment questioned, and therefore, Lafayette’s words caused a strange light to blaze in his pale blue eyes. “ _Optimum est pati quod emendare non possis.”_

Lafayette’s nostrils flared, “you say it is best to endure _qu’elle_ I cannot change . . . _chiant,_ I have endured far more than _vous_ can surmise.”

Feeling his rider’s tension, Jericho pawed the ground, bobbing his head.

Stroking the horse’s shoulder, Lafayette softly said, “Easy, _Garçon._ ”

Using his momentary lapse in attention, Quantrill edged a hand closer to the forward-facing butt of his Colt revolver.

However, the move did not pass unnoticed, and flicking his eyes to him, Lafayette said, “if’n _vous_ pull that _,_ I will trample _vous_ beneath his hooves.”

Rocking back in the heels of his boots, Quantrill forced out a laugh. “What they say of your temper is more than true.”

“ _Vous_ ain’t seen _mon tempère_. Now, do _vous_ have the locations? Or shall I take _m’_ Rangers from this camp, this _très_ hour?”

Quantrill moved his hand from his holster to stroke of his delicately curled Van Dyke beard. Still, even though he put forth being relaxed, chorded muscles stood rigid in his neck. “There is to be a sizable battle. It is for this reason; I have withheld the information you consistently hound me for. As it is the very payment I promised in exchange for assistance.” As he spoke, Quantrill’s tone became firmer, his words sharper. “But my dear, _Captain,_ you arrived here, at _my camp_ , of your own accord, and though we have enjoyed the company of your Rangers these past weeks, I had not summoned you. Now, once this battle is won and you have fulfilled the debt, I will then honor my end of the bargain.”

Lafayette inhaled deep, curbing his impulse to reach out and grab the man by his throat. To shake and shake him until Quantrill gave over what he wanted. Through gritted teeth, Lafayette asked, “when is this battle to be?”

“My scouts' relay coordinates. Thusly, I surmise we can complete our accord within the next two weeks, if not earlier.”

Flashing a tight, quick smile, Lafayette straightened, picking up his reins, “until then…” He nodded to Quantrill, “I will hound _vous non_ more.”

“I detest us being on these terms. However, you better knowing your place, would not make it so.”

A cold fury rushed through Lafayette with the strength of a storm, briefly blinding him, his left dimple pulsing to the rushing rhythm of his blood. Unable to trust himself one second longer, he laid heels to Jericho.

The stallion lunged into a plunging run.

Weaving through the bushwhacker camp, Lafayette acknowledged none as he made his way to the far west end of the valley where the Crowe Rangers were settled, near men of Cass County, they were familiar with.

Stepping down, Lafayette pulled Jericho’s saddle. Taking the reins, he led the horse into the rope corral encircling a part of the meadow. As he cooled his stallion, he labored to cool his own temper.

After more than thirty minutes of walking, he removed Jericho’s bridle. The big red dropped his head to graze, and Lafayette laid his arms across the stallion’s back. “ _Garçon_ , I am _très_ _fatigué_ of all of this.”

Placing his cheek to the horse’s warm hide, he exhaled, disappearing into his thoughts. ‘I had forgotten tellin’ Tad we would not win this war until he reminded _moi._ Other than that, bâtard O’Rourke, I deem we have tracked down as many of those who destroyed Sienna as we ever will. Would it be wrong for us to leave this war? I _jamais_ wanted to fight in it. I joined the fight because of our revenge . . . that and to protect others from the fate we suffered. Still, so many have been overrun, burned, their families set to drift on the winds. How long are we to keep this up?’

Jericho took a step forward.

Shifting with him, Lafayette crossed his arms on the horse’s back. Nestling his chin in his arms, he thought, ‘I wonder _qu’elle_ ever became of Celia?’ The voice in the back of his head warned him to not go there. But it was too late. He could feel the burn of guilt spreading through him. ‘Why did I not ignore Father and _visite_ her in Harrisonville afore leaving? Leastways, I would have honored _m’_ promesse I made her to return.’

Pushing off the stallion, he scratched Jericho’s ears when the horse turned to look at him. Then went and collected his tack. Looking once more over the herd, he thought, ‘where is Cain?’ Pivoting, he searched the area. ‘All the others are here…’ He sucked at his front teeth. ‘ _Qu’elle_ are you, _m' Frère_?"

Worry nagged at him as he walked to his and Thaddeus’ sleeping shelter, and tossing his tack down, he headed for the central fire for information.

Clyde Massey asked, "you want to talk about it?”

Reaching for the coffee pot, Lafayette shook his head and then arched a brow, “you cookin’ eggs?”

"Did some tradin’.” Clyde replied, reaching into a burlap bag, "got these, also.” He tossed Lafayette, a gleaming cherry tomato.

Rubbing it on his shirt, Lafayette took a small bite, sucking out the juice, before popping the flesh in his mouth, “ _Merci beaucoup_." His tongue slipped across his lower lip as Clyde turned a fried egg in the skillet. “Can I possibly get _un_ of those?”

Clyde flashed him a rakish grin, “I am cookin’ for you.”

“ _Vraiment?”_

“We all ate already, figured you would be hungry. Dig some more toms from the bag.”

Doing just that, Lafayette settled back, enjoying the salty richness of the tomatoes. “You seen, Tad?"

Clyde nodded with his head, “look yonder.”

Cain was grazing near a low spread Cottonwood tree, a good distance away, his dapple coat shining like a dove’s wing in the sunlight.

"He has been out there most of’n the day."

Figuring his coffee had cooled enough, Lafayette took a drink, and his nose wrinkled uptight. _"Par Dieu_ _,_ this is terrible."

“Been roastin’ on the coals since mornin’.”

Trying another sip, Lafayette dumped his cup. Standing, he did the same to the pot. It was then he noticed the scabs adorning Clyde’s knuckles. Pointing at them, he asked, " _Qu’elle_ happened?" 

Clyde flexed his left hand, "just a bit of a disturbance."

Filling the pot with water from a canteen, Lafayette tossed in their mixture of coffee beans, roasted acorns, and rye; they used to extend what little coffee they could find. Once done, Clyde handed him a plate of two eggs and a hunk of brown bread. “You goin’ to enlighten _moi_ in on _qu’elle_ happened?”

“Nope,” Clyde said, releasing a grin that set his dark blue eyes to sparking. “Figure it would just get the hair on the back of your neck to rise up all over again. And it damn well took you long enough out there in the horse corral to settle it from whatever it is . . . you do not want to talk about.” Handing him a second filled plate, Clyde loaded more tomatoes on Lafayette’s plate. “Like I said, Tad has been out there all day, and he ain’t ate either.”

Lafayette’s mouth quirked to the side as he stared hard at Clyde.

“Ain’t tellin’ you. And your foods gettin’ cold.”

With a snort, Lafayette walked away.

Amongst the sprawling cottonwoods bowed up roots, Thaddeus had created himself a nest of saddle blankets. Spread about him were his gunsmith tools, and to his right, on a gum blanket, was a stack of oiled revolvers and rifles.

Lafayette eyed it all curiously, holding out a plate. When his brother kept running a cleaning rod through a barrel, he asked, “you want this or not?”

“Oh, hey, Lafe,” Thaddeus chirped, his left eye lighting up at the sight of food. His right was too swollen from the multi-colored bruise encircling to tell what it did.

"You must be part of the tale Clyde is keepin’ shut ‘bout," Lafayette said, lifting the plate beyond Thaddeus’ reach. “ _Qu’elle diable_?"

"Well, to begin with, I would say I am ready to ride again."

Lafayette shook his head the barest amount with a frown, and crossing his ankles, dropped gracefully into a cross-legged seat on the ground.

"You goin’ to give _moi m’_ plate?"

"If’n I do not, I will have to fend you off like a vagrant hound while I try to eat."

"Man alive, I would of come to the fire, if’n I had known they were cookin’ eggs.”

Having shoveled in a mouthful, Lafayette pointed to Thaddeus with his spoon, “the eye."

"We had us a poker game last night. . . _moi,_ Jimmy, Clyde, and few of the Bates County _garçons_.”

“I feel like I know where this is headin’.” Lafayette grunted, shoving another mouthful in and around it, mumbled, “thought I told y’all to not be pullin’ that Hoyle trick _non_ more.”

“And we ain’t. Them _garçons_ were out and out cheatin'."

Lafayette eyed his brother dubiously, popping a tomato in his mouth.

“They were!”

Snagging Thaddeus’ canteen, Lafayette took a long drink. "I thought I told _you_ to take it easy."

"Oh. . .” Thaddeus gulped, reaching for a tomato from Lafayette’s plate, casually jabbing a thumb toward his eye. "This here were a lucky blow, is all."

"Perhaps, because you ain't as agile as you generally are," Lafayette replied. His eyes going to Thaddeus' bullet shot leg.

" _Doux Jésus_ , it is healed. You fret too much ‘bout _moi, Grand Frère_ _._ "

Lafayette muttered, “comes with the title.”

"Point is, I am ready to ride again."

Lafayette’s eyebrow arched, both his dimples becoming pronounced with his frown.

" _Zut,_ I am," Thaddeus answered. Sopping up the remains of his eggs with bread, he shoved it in his mouth, tossing the plate aside. Wiping his hands on his pants, he dug through the pile of maintenance firearms. “ _Vraiment_ did all I could.” With a bit of a shrug, he extended the LeMat. “That lever is busted.”

Taking his LeMat, Lafayette sighed heavily.

“I took it ‘round to other _garçons_ here who do gunsmithin’. None of’n us could figure a way to repair it, not without a forge. . . besides, we all think something twisted off down in its innards. So, _non_ more peppering the front line for you."

“I can still use the shotgun, just cannot use it as a revolver."

Thaddeus’ lips pulled tight, and he shook his head, “I do not think that is _bonne_ idea. It might wind up blowin’ you to bits.”

Releasing a light snort, Lafayette chucked the LeMat on the ground next to him.

"The big question was where you got it,” Thaddeus said, popping the last tomato in his mouth, closing his eyes as he savored its flavor.

“Told you it was a Christmas gift from Jonathon.”

“But that does not say where he got it.”

"Through one of his many business contacts, I suppose. I do know, it is one of the prototypes General Beauregard gave away." Lafayette frowned at the LeMat.

“Like I been sayin’ all along. You should be carryin’ a Colt or Remington anyways; they are much more trustworthy.” 

Lafayette turned his frown on Thaddeus, which only made his brother laugh heartily.


	44. Chapter FORTY-TWO

Chapter Forty-Two

**Thursday, 25 th of June 1863**

The sun descended toward the edge of the ravine as Lafayette lay on his back. On his chest lay a one of his Shakespeares, while above him, bright green spade-shaped cottonwood leaves twirled in the wind. Closing his eyes, he listened to their whispering song. As he enjoyed the simple peacefulness, the wind shifted, bringing with it the sharp tang of gun oil.

Opening his eyes, he closed the book, rolling on his side. After watching his brother for a time, he chuckled. “ _Par Dieu,_ I deem you have cleaned ‘bout every firearm in this entire camp.”

Thaddeus’ chipped-tooth, crooked grin flashed. “Gives _moi_ something to do. I loathe sittin’ ‘bout, you know that.”

“I know.”

A trio of Monarch butterflies circled about them.

Lafayette’s dark eyes followed them until their wavering flight carried them from sight. With a sigh, he grumbled, “I too get tired of waitin’. It leaves _moi_ too much time to think.”

Leveling the Smith and Wesson, Thaddeus assessed the smoothness of the hammer; he was adjusting. _“Qu’elle,_ you been thinkin’ over.”

Flopping onto his back, Lafayette muttered, “it would not interest you.”

Satisfied, he added the revolver to the pile on the gum blanket before replying, “I would not have fuckin’ asked if’n I was not interested.” Having chosen his next firearm to maintenance, Thaddeus appraised his brother, who having plucked a tall dandelion, was peeling its stem. “well?”

Clearing his throat, Lafayette said, “ _Mon_ mind likes to wander back to that fateful day at the Barnett’ picnic, goin’ over the whatfors and whereas of how _m’_ life would be if’n I had reacted differently.”

Thaddeus frowned, focusing on taking apart Cy Gordon’s Colt Army. The Ranger Captain complained the sights were off. Having told him he would look it over, Thaddeus turned the frame in his hands, trying to determine if it was stretched. Noticing Lafayette had fallen silent, he said, “ _feu de l'enfer,_ that ain’t gonna do you any _bonne_ to ruminate over all that.”

“I know.” Lafayette grumpily replied, tossing the dandelion away, placing his hands behind his head. “Worse it _toujours_ gets _moi_ reflectin’ on Celia.” Dragging his lower lip through his teeth, Lafayette remained silent.

Eyeing the Colt’s sight carefully, Thaddeus nodded. Then adjusted the fit of the sight, in its mount position. Glancing to Lafayette, he said, “go on and tell _moi_ the rest _._ ”

“Not so sure, I wish to open _mon_ self up to ridicule.”

Keeping his voice even, Thaddeus replied, “I ain’t goin’ ride you.”

Lafayette turned his head enough to allow him to see his brother. “Well, way of it is… Celia is like a leaf trapped in my mind. She whirls about, _jamais_ escapin’, only to surface now and again. When she does, I tell _mon_ self to turn away.” He sighed deeply. “It just does not work _toujours_ work.”

“It has been nearly four years.”

Lafayette shifted, his voice sounding tight as he answered, “I am fully cognizant of that fact.”

Rechecking the Colt’s sights, Thaddeus searched for the correct words, until at length, he asked, “ _qu’elle_ is it ‘bout that particular _fille_ that will not leave you be?”

The smallest of smiles touched Lafayette’s lips. “When I was down in New Orleans, I read this book where Plato quoted another man. He said, ‘all humans were once united with their other half, but Zeus split them apart out of fear and jealousy.’ It went on describing how all of us search, unknowingly, for our other half. That we will search our entire lives. Although, a rare blessed few actually find _qu’elle_ they are searching for, recognizing ‘em when their eyes meet.”

Putting the revolver down, Thaddeus leaned his elbows on his knees.

“See, I judge I did it. I found _m’_ other half.” Lafayette shifted his eyes to his brother, and at seeing him attentively listening, he went on. “I know how it sounds. Especially hearin’ it aloud, right now. But, Tad, I believe it was why Celia and I understood each other right off. Why all I had railed on ‘bout _mariage_ suddenly meant as little to _moi_ as the scraps I would scrape from _m’_ plate.”

“You still got that hollow ache in your chest? You told _moi_ ‘bout when you let _moi_ know you came home to marry ’er?”

Slowly, Lafayette nodded.

“For four years?!”

Lafayette’s mouth turned down, and he inhaled hard, nodding again.

“Fuck, Lafe, _très desole._ ” Thaddeus brows bunched into a tangled mess. “I cannot imagine feelin’ like that. Carryin’ that fuckin’ ache, along with all else you and I have been fuckin’ forced to endure.”

All of a sudden, Lafayette sat up, shaking his head and gesturing to the world beyond him. “I ain’t ever goin’ find ’er. Sure, she was in Cedar, but we both know how those fuckin’ Jayhawkers have ran _familles_ off.” Criss-crossing his legs, he put his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low. “Sides, it does not matter. She most likely married and has children. I lost _m’_ chance.”

“Did you not tell _moi,_ she is a distant cousin of the Youngers?” Thaddeus looked to the west, where long shadows stretched toward them. “Cole is in camp. You oughta go speak to ‘em. He might be able to answer your damn questions.”

Lafayette's head raised, his face haggardly showing his inner grief. “I have considered askin’ Cole plenty of times. Mostly, I do not want to hear ‘bout her belongin’ to someone else.”

“Damn, you are fuckin’ hard-headed. _Qu’elle,_ if’n she is not married?”

“And _qu’elle,_ do I have to fuckin’ offer ‘er?” Lafayette briskly shook his head. “I lead men to kill other men. You want _moi_ to bring that to ‘er?”

Thaddeus again looked west, “I am goin’ to ask Cole.”

“Do not fuckin’ dare! You will make _moi_ the joke that spreads like fire through this camp.”

“Lafe!?”

“I am dead serious! You will not speak with Cole.” Balling his hands into clasped fists, Lafayette placed his chin on his thumbs. “I lost _m’_ chance, and now, I am damn-well not worthy of ‘er. That there is the end of it.” He exhaled forcefully, “But, Taddy, this also leads toward something else I been thinkin’ over for weeks.” His eyes lifted to his brother. “We have had no communique from our _famille_ since Lone Jack, and at night, I find Katherine’s words about not havin’ her own blood to guard her, haunt _moi. Qu’elle_ is happenin’ there?”

“That weighs heavy on _moi_ also,” Thaddeus answered. Rubbing a hand over his chin, he went back to servicing the revolver.

Sitting straighter, Lafayette ran a hand back through his hair. “We both know we stayed for revenge. There is no other way to put it. Yet still we have labored to protect our fellow Missourians and ridiculously aided the Confederacy.”

“Yeah, that was utter fuckin’ _merde_ in Arkansas.”

This time Lafayette ran both his hands through his hair. “It is _une_ of _m’_ greatest regrets. But, despite our efforts, those Federalist _bâtards_ have still despoiled this State.”

Thaddeus nodded, running a cleaning rag down the Colt’s barrel.

“And, despite crossin’ _noms_ from our list…” Lafayette rolled his left hand in his right, cracking the knuckles. “…. “other than those Q’s been teasin’ us with, we have _non_ other leads.”

“I still want O’Rourke; he started all this for us.”

Lafayette looked sharply to his brother, “You think I do not!?”

“I know you do. Yet, Lafe, after we find ‘em….” Thaddeus shrugged, his fingers moving deftly over the revolver as he reassembled it. “At _qu’elle_ point, do we return to our _famille_?”

“That is the true question, is it not?”

Thaddeus tightened the revolver grip screws, half under his breath saying. “Although before we leave, we must find you answers regardin’ Celia.”

Looking west toward where he knew Coleman Younger was camped, Lafayette gnawed at his lip.

“Know what, Lafe…we ain’t goin’ to return to any of Q’s camps after this.” Thaddeus laid the Colt with the others on the gum blanket. “So, after the battle, I will speak with Cole.”

Lafayette’s shoulders drooped.

“ _Frère?”_

“Fine. You ask ‘em and then, we will follow up on the _noms,_ deciding afterward _qu’elle_ we should do.”

“I say if’n she is single, we find ‘er.”

Lafayette rolled an eye to his brother.

Thaddeus barked out a laugh. “That is exactly _qu’elle_ we are goin’ do you stubborn mule. If’n not it is goin’ drive you fuckin’ insane.” Rising, Thaddeus clamped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sides, I care too much for you to have you sufferin’ this way.”

Laying his hand atop Thaddeus’, Lafayette looked him in the eye, “ever tell you _qu’elle_ a damn fine _frère_ you are.”

Thaddeus broke into a toothy smile and shoved Lafayette all the way over. “Come on, assist _moi_ in packin’ all this up.” Waving to the weaponry and his gunsmithing tools. “I need to return these pieces.”

Rolling the gum blanket about the cleaned weapons, Lafayette said. “Still think you have cleaned ‘bout every piece in this valley.”

“Not every fuckin’ _une_ but a _bonne_ deal of’em.”

“Where do these belong? I will take ‘em back for you.”

“Nope. You take _m’_ tools to our camp, and I will return these.”

Lafayette tilted his head questioningly at his brother.

“These are goin’ to Quantrill's camp and those near ‘em.”

“Oh!”

“Fuckin’ right! Mood you are already in, it would not take much to have you in a fuckin’ righteous brawl.”

“That man rubs _moi_ wrong.”

“And all of’n us are well aware of it.”

Putting his hands on his hips, Lafayette stared to the far end of the valley, disappearing in purple twilight. “I cannot help thinkin’ Q failed over in Kansas, then came here as a turncoat just so he could play the big toad in the puddle.”

“Sounds feasible enough.”

“ _Mes apologies_ for gettin’ us caught up in his coattails.”

“Ah, it was bound to happen,” Thaddeus replied, hefting the firearms Lafayette had bundled for him. “Like you said, he enjoys his position of biggest toad in the puddle.” Bumping his brother, Thaddeus winked at him. “I deem _une_ day, someone is goin’ fuckin’ stomp 'em flat.”

Lafayette’s dimples danced. “Most likely _moi,_ if’n he has been dallying us along all this time.”

“You may have to stand in line for that.”

Flinging Thaddeus’ saddlebag over his shoulder, Lafayette picked up his book, releasing a hearty laugh. “ _Par Deux,_ I ain’t standin’ in line. I will pull rank.”

Thaddeus snorted, and walking off, called back. “Suppose you could fuckin’ try.”


	45. Chapter FORTY-THREE

Chapter Forty-Three

**Monday, 1 st of July 1863**

Under a streaming line of clouds turned silver by a full moon, the frogs reverberating chorus, just about, blanketed the sound of the Rangers packing.

‘Glad we are leavin,’ Lafayette thought, wrinkling his nose at the fetid smells rising from the camp in the thick, wet air. ‘But _zut,_ this is our fourth move since attaching ourselves to Q. I am damn near movin’ _m’_ Rangers on altogether.’

Flopping his stirrup down, he dropped Jericho’s reins to the ground, leaving the horse standing placidly. Not seeing his brother, the thought, ‘where is Tad?’ ran through his head but more in curiosity than irritation.

Having caught Cain, he brought him to stand with Jericho, and again looked for his brother; his annoyance beginning to grow. On spotting Thaddeus trudging his way, with his head down and shoulders humped, he grumbled, “bout time.”

Without a word, Thaddeus shifted his load to the ground, shook out his saddle blanket, and settled it across Cain’s back.

“You sleep poorly?” Lafayette asked, after studying his brother’s pinched, pale face.

Thaddeus grunted an unintelligible answer, tossing his saddle aboard Cain.

“ _Qu’elle_ is wrong?”

Tying off his cinch, Thaddeus grinned tightly over at his brother, “I am fine.”

“You ate?”

“Ain’t hungry?”

The corners of Lafayette’s mouth dipped down, “ _vous_ ain’t hungry?”

 _“Par tous les saints_ , leave _moi_ fuckin’ be; I should still be asleep.” Slipping Cain’s bridle on, Thaddeus dropped the reins to the ground, tapping the stallion lightly on the forehead; he looked him straight in the eye. “Stand!”

“I do not know why you do that when he is already trained to ground tying.”

“Know how I tell you; he knows who the head stallion is?” Thaddeus looked from his brother to Cain and back, “times are I like to remind ‘em _._ ” Untying his metal cup from his saddlebag, Thaddeus yawned. “Come on, I want some _café_.”

With a shrug, Lafayette fell in step with him, “you can try. Camps been comin’ down pretty rapidly while you were gettin’ your beauty sleep.”

Chuckling softly, Thaddeus replied, “got to keep the _mesdemoiselles_ happy.”

“Humph. I would figure since you are willin’ to pay three dollars a go, looks were not something they would be worrying ‘bout.”

“Fuck you.”

“Just sayin’,” Lafayette answered, laughing warmly as they came up to the central campfire where the pots had been set aside to cool.

Looking over as he kicked moist dirt on the coals, Grandville Ketchum said, “‘bout missed out, Albert was fixin’ to dump the last.”

Having finished securing the tripod and s-hooks in a rifle sheath that had been altered for such use, Albert Minters stood with a yawn. “Mornin’ Capt’, Tad.”

Pouring himself a cup, Thaddeus took a gulp, forcing it down. “Should be a law ‘gainst callin’ this sludge _café._ ”

“What is the old phrase…. beggars cannot be choosers,” Albert said, dumping the smaller coffeepot.

“But we do not beg,” Lafayette snapped back, his voice tinged with anger.

“Do not be gettin’ all in a ruffle, Capt.’ But man alive, just cause ya is payin’ does not mean we ain’t beggin’. When was the last time ya tasted authentic coffee?”

Unable to argue that point, Lafayette only nodded.

Preparing to dump the gallon pot, Albert raised it to Tad. “You want more?”

Thaddeus frowned but extended his cup. “Sure fuckin’ wish we had some sugar for this.”

“Of the things I wish for Tad,” Grandville said, “sugar is awful low on the list.”

Thaddeus winked at him across his cup, “maybe _m’_ list is a hell of a lot shorter than yours.”

Slapping him on the shoulder, Grandville grabbed the small coffeepot, frowning at the cumbersome gallon pot. “Whose turn is it for the cowbell?”

Lafayette yawned, and reaching down, took up the gallon bell-shaped pot’s handle. “I ain’t had _une,_ I will strap it with _m’_ gear.”

Albert quickly said, “it is all right, Capt’, I think it is Teague's turn,” reaching for the pot.

“I got it.”

“But Capt’ it is—”

“ _Feu de l'enfer,_ I said I got it!” Lafayette shook his head, scowling dubiously at the pair before walking away.

Albert’s eyeshot wide, and he gulped, “Tad?!”

Flashing a tight grimace, Thaddeus flung an open palm at the pair, taking off after his brother. “Hey, Lafe…. Lafe…”

He had about caught up when Common Smith passed Lafayette and spun about. “Who ya takin’ the pot to?”

Not stopping, Lafayette answered, “to Jericho.”

Common trotted back, latching hold of the pot’s pail handle. “Give me that!”

Turning on the older man, like he had come unglued, Lafayette asked, “why?! I am fine strapping it with _m’_ gear.”

Common rolled his ever-present stub of a cigar to the corner of his mouth. Then in a tone, the belied his words, barked, “ya are our Captain.”

“Does not make _moi_ any different.”

“It makes ya plenty different.” Common pulled harder on the pail handle, his pug nose wrinkling tight. “Now, give it the fuck over!”

Rearing back a touch, Lafayette released the pot, and it swung in a full arch in Common’s hand, popping Michael Rose with a clang as he passed by.

“Hey!” Rose blurted.

Before he could get another word out, Common ordered, “take this with you.”

Rose’s shoulders slumped, his head rolling back at a cock-eyed angle, “I already had my turn and recently.”

“ _Christ sur une croix_ , give that back to _moi_ and get the fuck in your saddles.”

Rose’s eyes widened, “you cannot carry it.”

“ _Qu’elle diable_ are you all goin’ on about?”

They all fell silent.

“Well?!”

Scratching at the side of his neck, Thaddeus finally spoke up. “Ah, hell, Lafe, it is cumbersome attached to your gear. You _vraiment_ do not want to carry it.” He bobbed his head toward their horses, “let Rose have it, and come on.”

Holding out his hand to Rose, Lafayette firmly said, “And I am just as capable to deal with it banging against _m’_ saddle all-day as any of’n you.”

“ _Zut,_ Lafe, we all believe it would be fuckin’ _malchance_.”

All three shifted their eyes, refusing to meet his when they slid across them. “ _Why_ would it be _malchance_?”

Rose muttered, “well…. uh…you know how it sounds like a cowbell when it bounces just right ‘gainst your saddle. . . well, uh. . ..”

Lafayette looked at the bulbous round pot dangling from Rose’s hand.

Thaddeus, grudgingly, spoke up, “We all feel, if’n we let you carry the bell, it would be like makin’ you a Judas Steer to lead us all to fuckin’ slaughter.”

Lafayette took a step back with an open-mouth stare of disbelief at the trio. “ _Pour l'amour de Dieu_ , when and why did y’all turn a coffeepot into a harbinger of malcontent.” 

Common shrugged, “do not know how it happened; it just did.” He shrugged again, “and Capt’ there ain’t a one of’n us here who want to test that luck.” Swallowing, he tried to smile and failed. “Just…well…like Tad said, you do not really want to carry it. So, go on.”

Lafayette’s eyes shifted to the blackened, galvanized pot whose handle Rose’s hand tightened and loosened about.

“Leave the _malheureux_ thing here.”

Rose released a sickly grin, “But, then we will not have enough coffee for everyone.”

“Come on,” Thaddeus tugged at Lafayette’s arm. “Time to move out.” He nodded toward men climbing into their saddles all about them.

Following his younger brother, Lafayette shook his head several times. ‘That all is plain…plain…utter fuckin’ foolishness.’ When he settled in his saddle, he found Thaddeus staring at him from where he sat on Cain.

“You are thinkin’ so loud, I can hear you.” Thaddeus shot a look back to their Rangers, pulling into line behind them. “Knock it off! Let’em have their beliefs, or they will think you are invitin’ _malchance_ on us.”

Lafayette peered at his brother’s solemn face. With a nod, he took a deep breath, sat up straighter in his saddle. Raising and lowering an arm, he led his men to fall in behind Silas Gordon’s Rangers, becoming a part of the long line riding from the encampment.

The last stars were twinkling in the sky as the platoon of guerillas and partisan rangers rode south along an undulating road carved from Missouri’s rolling hillside. Pointing with his hand clamped about a dry biscuit, he was chewing down; Thaddeus said, “Hey, look, Lafe, here comes Cole Younger.”

His words jerked Lafayette from the conversation he was having with Jackson, and he turned a furtive look to his brother, who was grinning quite wolfishly.

Lafayette's face hardened, and he shook his head.

“Ah, I already told you, I would not until after the battle.”

“You mean it.”

“Ain’t _jamais_ welched on you before.”

“ _Non,_ you ain’t,” Lafayette replied, dragging his lower lip through his teeth.

“And ain’t startin’ now.” Thaddeus said, releasing a bullish snorted laugh, “cease frettin’.”

“What is goin’ on?”

Lafayette turned back to Jackson, wrinkling his nose with a shake of his head, “Nothing.”

“That nothing sounds a whole lot like something you would say when shyin’ from Mams grabbin’ of our ears might be necessary.” Leaning forward in his saddle, Jackson looked across to Thaddeus. “What is goin’ on?”

Lafayette warily watched Cole riding closer as he stopped to trade words with a man in Gordon’s unit.

Thaddeus grinned, “did you know a certain _mademoiselle_ is related to the Youngers?”

Jackson’s blue eyes scanned the poker-face Lafayette was settling in place, and with a snort, his soft, full lips twisted into a jovial smirk. “That so?”

Lowly Lafayette, growled, “Jackson, do not.”

Jackson only lowered his face, the grin becoming more pronounced.

“Finally made it back here.” Cole shoved his wide-brimmed hat up and back, so it perched atop his ears and swiped of his face. “Damn, muggy already, gonna get hotter than a half-fucked fox in a forest fire today.”

“Been thinkin’ the same myself,” answered Brody from where he rode on the far side of Jackson. “How you doin’, Cole?”

“Cannot complain now that we are on the move again.” Cole’s droopy eyes scrolled over Lafayette, “How you doin’ Lafayette?”

“Better now, like you said now that we are on the move.”

Digging about in his pocket, Cole pulled out a bag of tobacco, “any of your boys want to trade smoke for chaw?”

Brody jerked a thumb over his shoulder, “might talk to Gideon or Common.”

Cole’s broad mouth spread into a smile, “good to know.” His gaze came back to Lafayette, “Captain Quantrill wants to speak with you.” He nodded, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Also said to tell you to leave the cantankerous portion of your disposition back here.”

A high-pitched giggle came from behind Lafayette.

“Fox Northrup, I swear I am goin’ position you on drag for a week.”

Fox replied around his laughter, “ah, come on, Lafayette, that is funny, and you know it.”

Jackson snickered, adding, “he ain’t wrong.”

“So, Cole, you sent to escort _moi,_ or am I considered polite enough to ride up alone?”

“Oh, you can ride up alone,” Cole replied with a large, braying laugh. “I done what I was told to do. Though I might do some palavering and trading back here for a spell.”

Throwing Thaddeus one more meaningful look, Lafayette reined Jericho in front of Jackson and Brody. But before he broke into a trot for the front, he heard Jimmy Gamble ask. “Cole, whatever became of that spirited lass who be staying on with your Ma for so long?”


	46. Chapter FORTY-FOUR

Chapter Forty-Four

At Jimmy’s question, despite the heat of the day, a shiver traversed Lafayette’s spine. Forbidding himself to even glance back, he put his heels to Jericho.

Flowing up the line of men, many of them called out salutations. Smiling back in reply, Lafayette strived to calm the anxiousness Jimmy had raised in him. On spotting a flourish of ostrich feathers adorning a hat, he slowed. As he eased in alongside Quantrill’s horse, Jericho’s head shot up, his nostrils flaring with a loud snort.

“Hope you have a controlling hand on that stallion.”

Lafayette turned a cold eye on Quantrill. Recalling what Cole had said, he forced out a brilliant smile. “Most certainly.” Jericho snorted again, and Lafayette side-stepped him a distance from Quantrill. “Appears your mare is in season.”

William Quantrill ran an adoring hand down the high stepping black mare’s neck. “Bess is the fastest, loyalist horse I have ever sat.” He smiled across to Lafayette, “it is a pity she is a mare; still, I adore her all the same.”

Quantrill’s open affection for his horse gave Lafayette hope the man could think beyond himself. Easing his guard, he casually said, “you wish to speak with _moi._ ”

“I regret we have exchanged harsh feelings which have caused us to be at odds. Yet the truth is what I know vexes me.” Quantrill shifted in his saddle, allowing himself a clearer view of Lafayette. “For I worry, giving you what you want will mean losing the formidable ferocity of your Ranger’s in the imminent battle.”

Lafayette’s smile twisted tight against his teeth as he thought. ‘How dare this _fils de pute_ suggest I would abscond without fulfilling our agreement. He cannot be such an _imbécile_ as to not fathom that is an outright jab at _m’ honneur_?’

“We will be entering a town,” Quantrill pointed ahead of him, “across the border.”

“Are we to battle in a town?”

“The place is in line with our destination and would be a fine opportunity to gather supplies.” Quantrill’s pale eyes appraised Lafayette reading his unease. “These dogs have done the same in Missouri more times then,” he waved a hand about him, “any of us could count.”

“Still, I do not conform with takin’ war to civilians who _jamais_ brought it to us.”

“I know you to be sharper than that Crowe. Thus, you _must_ understand that even in their docileness of staying home, they have brought it to us. For they do not condemn nor banish those who commit atrocities upon our neighbors.”

‘ _Our neighbors…_ fuckin’ loathe how he tosses those words ‘bout.’ Lafayette thought, ‘he was _jamais_ a neighbor to any of’n us.’ Feeling his rider’s agitation, Jericho quickened his pace. Reeling the stallion in, Lafayette settled him back alongside Quantrill. Although, he used the moment to rein down his own rising anger and think. Which made him realize. ‘Entering this town, he wants something further of _moi, a_ nd, therefore, _m’_ men.’ Lafayette's eyes unconsciously flitted over his shoulder, the names of the various units he passed on the ride up coming to him. “Have you spoke to the other Captains regardin’ your plans for this town?”

Quantrill, too, looked behind him, the burnished glow of hubris warming his face. “They answered my call, and by doing so, put themselves under my command.” His eyes came back to Lafayette, “hence, I require no permission from them.”

Lafayette’s muscles tightened, and Jericho bunched beneath him. Knowing the stallion was mimicking him, Lafayette forced himself to sit looser in the saddle. Smoothly, if albeit a bit coldly asking. “Then why did you summon _moi_?”

“Speaking with me truly does put a crimp in your tail.”

Lafayette sucked his jaw shut, telling himself to count to ten before speaking. As he counted, it came to him. ‘I am not angry. I am tired. Tired of verbal games. Of walking a knives edge with men like Quantrill. Tired of this entire war.’ Having reached ten, he quietly replied with a strong undercurrent of sarcasm. “It is _une_ of many points that maintains a crimp in _m’_ tail. So, do not be for countin’ _vous_ too high on the list.”

A bitter chuckle slipped from Quantrill as he shook his head. “Several of my lieutenants,” he glanced at George Todd, riding on his other side, “have informed me, they do not believe you will allow your Rangers to attack a town.”

“They have advised accurately.”

“Told ya, Clark,” said George Todd.

Quantrill nodded, “Well then when we arrive, I would highly suggest a visit to the Land Assayer’s office. For it is there, you will find the names you seek, along with records of their location within the town limits.”

Lafayette’s face flushed with color.

“Ah, so this changes your perspective on attacking a town?”

A toneless, noncommittal laugh slid from Lafayette. “It does not. I will, however, visit the Assayer’s Office as you suggest…” He bared a pointed smile, “…however, _m’_ Rangers will not assist in the destruction of the town.”

Quantrill, slowly, shook his head. “It does seem others understand you better than I. Which makes me hope all the more that I am correct in understanding you to be a gentleman. Thusly, you will not go back on your word, even with my paying you before you have performed your labors.”

Lafayette’s eyes blazed, and he leaned close to Quantrill. “ _Vous_ fuckin’ question _m’ honneur_ again, and I vow _par_ _Dieu_ …” Swearing bitterly, he spun Jericho departing.

George Todd shook his head. “Damn, Clark, you keep pushin’ Crowe like a bear with a sore tooth, and he is gonna grind you under his heel.”

Quantrill settled back in his saddle, saying, “not with all my men about, he will not.”

Bill Anderson released a brutish laugh. “Ya best not be thinkin’ we all are here to defend ya. We got our own reasons for bein’ here. So as Crowe said, do not be considerin’ yaself so high on the list.”

On reaching his Rangers, Lafayette spun Jericho about so sharp, dirt flew in the air, causing more than a few of them to mutter curses.

Brody asked, “what is it?”

Still livid, Lafayette turned on Brody, and what he saw surprised him. ‘He is honestly worried ‘bout _moi._ I can see it in every line ‘bout his eyes.’ Inhaling, he let it out, saying, “I am fine.”

Brody did not reply, but the corners of his mouth tightened.

“Hell, ya came back down the line like ya was on a damn mission.”

Lafayette’s eyes flicked from Brody at Fox’s words, to see all near studying him. A smile dissolved the hardness of his face. “ _Feu de l'enfer,_ that I ain’t beat the life from that uppity _fils de pute,_ should amaze y’all, every time I leave his company.”

Reaching across, Brody thumped him on the back with brotherly affection, “it does, Lafe, it _vraiment_ does.”

“What did he want of you, Bub?”

“Wanted to let _moi_ know we will be stoppin’ in a town where the men we search reside.”

From behind him, Albert asked, “we stopping there _before_ Q’s Action?”

“ _Oui._ He deems it to be a fine spot to procure supplies.” Lafayette twisted in his saddle, scanning who all was riding about him. “Where is Cole?”

Clyde grinned brilliantly, “frettin’ he is goin’ to inform Q what you said?”

“Fuck Q! He already knows how I feel.”

The grin turned to laughter. “Suppose he does.” Clyde jerked a thumb over his shoulder, “Cole went searchin’ Dave Poole and his pals.”

As he turned back, Lafayette caught Thaddeus’ eye. His brother’s chipped tooth grin appeared. Suddenly the heat his anger had filled him with turned to ice. ‘Do they all know how I feel ‘bout Celia?’

Peering around Brody, Jackson casually asked, “Then why you want to know where Cole was?”

The coldness spread down to Lafayette’s toes, chilling him. “Just curious.”

“Bet I know what he is curious about.” Albert winked to his cousin Clyde.

“Bet you are right,” Clyde answered, smiling over to Jimmy. “Told ya, he heard ya.”

Brody dropped a hand on Lafayette’s shoulder with a deep rolling laugh, giving him a shake.

Lafayette thought, ‘I am goin’ fuckin’ teach Tad a thing or _duex_ ‘bout keepin’ a _promesse.’_ Moving from Brody’s reach, he snapped, “Cease pawin’ at _moi._ And, I have _non_ idea _qu’elle_ y’all are goin’ on ‘bout!”

Fox dryly asked, “That so...?”

Lafayette’s dark eyes scanned to Fox Northrup.

Never one to take a cue, Fox grinned wickedly. “We all figured you would be damn curious ‘bout Cole’s answers to Jimmy.”

Hotly, Lafayette replied, “why would I care ‘bout that?”

“Go on and tell ‘em, Jimmy.” Clyde made a chirking sound, “we all know he is lyin’.”

Lafayette passed Clyde a bristling annoyed glance that bled over to Jimmy with his cackling smile.

“Way of it is, me Boyo,” Jimmy said. “Mrs. Bersheba, she thinks mighty high of the cheese me Grandmum would make at our dairy. So, when I be regularly delivering it to the Youngers, I became friendly with Miss Celia. Seeing Cole today made me wonder how Miss. Celia be doing. That lass has a right smart Irish look to her and a fine mind for discoursing. Problem be, no matter how sweetly I ask her to walk out with me, she always just as sweetly be telling me she cannot.”

By this point, Jimmy’s blue eyes were sparkling with undisguised mirth as he watched his friend trying not to squirm in his saddle.

“Finally, I be deciding with me not being so hard on the eyes and her not speaking of a sweetheart, her family must have arranged her a marriage. That be one of the questions I be having for Cole.”

Lafayette’s back stiffened.

“See, I be forgetting to ask last time we all be in Harrisonville when the Youngers were still living there. Meself, I stopped in to say hellos to all of ‘em, and she be gone. But like I said, I be forgetting to ask about her that day as Bob and John were talking so at me. But today, when I asked Cole, he said he and Jim escorted her home to her Pap, but not too long afterward, she moved over to her sisters.”

Lafayette turned so abruptly, Jericho also turned, bumping against Artorius.

Knowing smiles spread across the faces of his friends.

Avoiding their eyes, he lined Jericho out, his thoughts flopping excitedly. ‘Living with her sister, does that mean she is not married? Perhaps I _should_ go speak to Cole.’

“Well, next, I be asking Cole if he would pass along a hello for me next time he visited. He said he would. Then thinking on how lively and pretty Miss. Celia be, I just out and asked Cole straight if she has herself a beau or not. Craziest thing! Cole shook me a hard no and, heading out, scowled at Tad here like he be the worst he had ever met.”

“Jimmy’s right,” Fox said. “Downright confused all of’n us. Especially since Tad had not said a peep sideways to Cole, the whole damn time he was here.”

“Yep!” Clyde said. “So, we started discussin’ it. Jimmy described Miss. Celia for us, and then all at once…” Clyde again made the chirking noise in his teeth. “…we all knew exactly who she was.”

There was a chorus of agreements, and Lafayette felt sweat trickle down his spine.

“Hey, Lafayette,” Fox said. “You able to say who ridin’ _right here_ was at Elizabeth Barnett’s birthday party?”

Lafayette licked his lips, “Well, Jackson, Rance, Albert, Micah, uh…Nate—”

Reed Chaplin said, “I was there.”

Lafayette’s head swiveled around to Reed, surprise evident on his face.

“So, were JT and I,” said Clyde.

“I came along with Jon and Teague,” Fox said. “Course, ya was too wrapped up in Miss. Celia to ever notice any of’n us.”

“See it came to us,” Brody said. “Jimmy ain’t totally hideous for a gal to be rejectin’ em for an entire year. That and with the way Cole’s eyes burned into Tad, he being the only Crowe present at the moment. Well, we got to figurin’ she is still moonin’ over you, and her family must not be too thrilled with it.” Brody slapped Lafayette on the back. “Now, Lafe, back then, I used to listen to you sermonize how you were not ‘bout to let some _fille_ tie you down with marriage.”

A vein popped out in Lafayette's neck as he swallowed hard, his ears crimsoning.

“But, despite that, I bet, Jimmy twenty dollars that you are _also_ still moonin’ over the Younger’s little cousin.”

The crimson in Lafayette’s ears bled out across his tight face. He swallowed again, not able to gather an answer, as all that was whirling about his mind was ‘Celia’s not married. She has spoken to Cole ‘bout _moi._ Celia’s not married. _Qu’elle_ has she said to Cole? Celia’s not married!’

“Lafe, does Gamble owe me twenty-dollars?”

Turning his face back to Brody, Lafayette gave him the barest nod.

“Hot Damn! Pay up, Irish!”

Fox belted out, “Woo Wee, Lafayette’s in love.”

“That sure as hell sheds a whole new light on our Captain,” said Clyde.

Brody laughed warmly, saying, “Sure does. Hellfire, Mams would be beside herself with pride if’n she knew.”

“Also tells us why he did not go upstairs, so much, at all the saloons,” chortled Reed.

Taking in his brother’s pale dumbstruck expression and recalling their open conversations about the pain Lafayette suffered because of this love, Thaddeus spun on all their friends. “Y’all shut the fuck up!”

Wide, surprised eyes turned to Thaddeus, with Fox snorting. “Why!? What ya goin’ do, Tad?”

“I will begin by knockin’ you in the fuckin’ mud Clarence Northrup.” Thaddeus green eyes narrowed, “then work _m’_ way down the line if’n need be.”

Through all this, Lafayette did not react, as he was not listening. All he could hear was ‘Celia’s not married, and Cole knows where she is,’ pounding like canon fire in his head.


	47. Chapter FORTY-FIVE

Chapter Forty-Five

Around mid-day, Quantrill signaled a break along a rushing stream. Having watched Lafayette stroll away to stretch his legs, Fox edged closer to Thaddeus. “I wanted to speak with ya but decided to wait ‘till others were not ‘bout.”

Dropping Cain’s rear foot, he had been cleaning, Thaddeus straightened. Pboot atting the horse on the hip; he looked blankly at Fox.

“How come ya got bunched ‘bout us all pesterin’ ya brother?”

Stepping to Cain’s front hoof, Thaddeus lifted it. Digging at the mud cake, he thought back to Lafayette, revealing how he had returned to Missouri to ask Celia to marry him. Then of all the other times, his brother had mentioned her and how vulnerable he had seemed each time.

“I mean hell, you threatened me.” Fox kicked a puffball mushroom. “Damnation, we been friends since we was twelve, and ya ain’t never threatened me.”

Releasing Cain’s leg, Thaddeus turned with a sigh, leaning against the horse’s shoulder. “ _Mex excuses, ami._ ” He sighed again. “This ain’t a damn jestin’ matter for Lafe. It is something which has been fuckin’ consuming his spirit.”

Fox’s narrow eyes widened, and he took a step closer. “Ya serious!”

“Yeah.” Checking to see if anyone was near, Thaddeus waved Fox even closer. “Whole reason he came back with you and _moi_ from _L'Eau Sucrée_ was ‘cause he realized he could not go on without askin’ Celia to marry ‘em.”

“That fuckin’ so?”

“But he did not get to because…” Thaddeus’ brows bunched like furrows.

Laying a hand on his shoulder, Fox softly said, “because of Sienna.”

Sucking in his cheeks, Thaddeus nodded.

“Then, he lost track of‘er.”

“Kind of. But really…he determined he was _non_ longer worthy of ‘er. Decided it would be best to let ‘er go.” Thaddeus dug his flask out. “ _Jésus a pleuré,_ except he did not fuckin’ let‘er go. His _amour_ of ‘er stayed true. He just buried it.” Taking a drink, Thaddeus shook his head. “All this time, _m’_ _grand frère’s_ been in agony, hurtin’ himself is _mal_ enough…” Thaddeus' green eyes were dark when his gaze flicked to Fox. “…. y’all did not need to be addin’ to it.”

Fox held out his hand for Thaddeus’ flask; taking a drink, he passed it back. “Damn! I feel like a dunderhead for draggin’ it all in the open for ‘em. Why did ya not stop me?”

“How the fuck could I?” Thaddeus took another drink, spun the lid back on his flask, and pocketed it. “Like you said, we have been _amis_ since we was twelve. And I know when you are tryin’ to drive the cart off the cliff. But if’n I tried to stop you…I would have wound up breakin’ _m’ promesse_ to Lafe.”

“I will not bring it up again.”

“Well, Fox, I deem it is lil’ fuckin’ late.”

“Me too.” Fox nodded, glanced to Ebby his gift from the Crowe brothers, and felt twice as bad. “Can ya tell Lafayette I am apologetic?”

“Nope.” Thaddeus shook his head. “That is up to you.” He looked about, “but, right now, I am goin’ to go chat with _m’ frère._ ”

“Want me to come along.”

Thaddeus snorted a laugh, “You _vraiment_ are a glutton for punishment. _Non,_ I do not want you to come along. You can make your apologies without _moi_ ‘round.”

“Fine.”

“Fine is fuckin’ right,” Thaddeus laughed, leading Cain to stand with Jericho.

Bill Car’s silvery-blue eyes appraised Thaddeus turning in a circle with his hands on his hips. When he saw him frown, Bill smiled. “He is up under the willows.”

Thaddeus nodded, “ _Merci._ ” Weaving in under the dangling leafy fronds, he called, “Hey, Lafe.”

Lafayette answered, “I ‘bout owed you an apology today.”

One corner of Thaddeus’ mouth drew upward, and he arched a brow.

Twirling the long, soft green leaf he held between his thumb and forefinger, Lafayette slanted an eye to his brother. “Probably ought to anyhow considerin’ _qu’elle_ I was thinkin’.”

“I did not break _m’ promesse_.”

“It is _qu’elle_ I came to understand. _Mes apologies_.”

Thaddeus walked across the soft, mossy ground shaking his head, “So, you decided if’n it is time to find‘er?”

Lafayette tried to stifle a smile, and failing, he nodded.

“‘ _Bonne,_ damn _bonne_.”

“Tad, you think…” Lafayette twirled the leaf some more.

Hitching his thumbs in his shoulder holsters, Thaddeus rocked back in his heels giving Lafayette the room he needed to get his thoughts out.

Tilting his face up with a crooked grin, Lafayette shrugged, “that she might want _moi?_ ”

“If’n she _has_ spoken ‘bout you enough for Cole to be bothered ‘bout it…then why would she not?”

Lafayette snorted, letting the leaf flutter to the ground. “Cause I ain’t got nothing to offer ‘er.”

“You got yourself.”

Rolling his eyes, Lafayette stepped off the tree he had been leaning against. “You know _qu’elle,_ I have said ‘bout that.”

“ _Feu de l'enfer,_ Lafayette Henri, ain’t none of’n us fuckin’ Saints. If’n she has kept a flame burnin’ for you this long, she damn-well ain’t gonna douse it out when she sees you.”

“Suppose you are right.”

“You know I fuckin’ am.” Thaddeus tilted his head back, grinning hugely at his brother. “So, when you goin’ ask Cole how to find‘er.”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

“Like I have done told you before, not till after the battle.”

Thaddeus spat in his hand, extending it. “You _promesse_?”

Lafayette reared back a bit from his brother, his face twisting. “You serious!?”

“You _promesse?_ ” Thaddeus extended his hand more.

Taking in his brother’s frank expression, Lafayette released a throaty laugh and spit in his palm. Grabbing Thaddeus’ hand, he squeezed it tight. “I _promesse._ ”

“ _Bonne._ I am holdin’ you to it.”

With a smile that brightened his whole being, Lafayette replied, “you will not have to.”

“But I will.” Thaddeus looked away, inhaled, and then back to his brother. “ _Qu’elle_ has Q said, ‘bout this town?”

“Just that he intends to bring on ‘em _qu’elle_ they have brought to our neighbors.”

Taking off his hat, Thaddeus dropped it to the ground, squatting beside it. “So, he plans on plunderin’ and murderin’.”

Tilting his head, Lafayette studied Thaddeus, thinking. ‘He ain’t so sure ‘bout this.’ As he did, the happiness which had been shining from him faded. “We will not attack the town. Only go after the _de noms_ from our list.”

“Q has other plans….” Thaddeus sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “…he is goin’ to want our Rangers to assist in slaughterin’ the men of this town.” He peeked up at his brother, unhappiness making his face hang slack. “When we set ourselves on this path, it was to serve justice to the fuckers who came to Sienna while defendin’ others from the same fate.”

Dropping a knee to the ground, Lafayette reached over, ruffling his younger brother’s thick, cowlicked hair. Although he had not done it in more than ten years, it felt somehow perfectly natural. “ _Qu’elle_ is it you wish to do, _Petit_?”

The willow branches rattled in a gust of wind, the cooling air blowing across the pair of them, and Thaddeus frowned, cocking an eye over to his brother.

“I wish, Taddy, I could have shielded you from all of this.”

Thaddeus’ nose wrinkled. “That ain’t _qu’elle_ I ever wanted. _Qu’elle_ I would have liked was for none of this…. not any of it to have ever happened. But since those fuckin’ _fils de pute_ chose to ruin our lives. . .” His face shifted into a feral snarl. “let us go show ‘em the tragedy of their damn choices.”

Gripping his brother’s shoulder, Lafayette smiled solemnly then rose to his feet.

Thaddeus snugged his hat back on before standing. “ _Vraiment,_ I am alright, Lafe. But like you, I get to fuckin’ regrettin’ where this war has led us. Although it does not remove _m’_ desire to fuckin’ cross Streeper, Shell, Hayden, and Benson from our list and this world.”

By late afternoon, the first bits of the town skylined the horizon. Yet, when the long line of men riding across Kansas passed a cluster of Elm trees, Lafayette signaled his Rangers to move into the trees.

They followed his directive. However, most of them curiously watched Poole’s Rangers riding on by. As their horses quieted, Quinton Nicholson asked in his soft, drawling way. “Were you wishin’ to detail our plan of attack, Capt’?”

Kicking his boot free of his right stirrup, Lafayette hitched his leg across the shoulders of his saddle, releasing a soft uneasy smile. Then he sat still, for a long moment, measuring his words and the men waiting for him to speak.

The entire group stared back, their horses pawing the ground and bobbing their heads. The animals revealing the disquiet the Rangers were not voicing.

Taking a breath, Lafayette spoke out warmly. “Been chatter up and down the line today, so I know y’all are aware we are visitin’ a town afore we commence Q’s Action.”

Many nodded, grunting agreements.

“He has plans of plunderin’, burnin’, and slaughterin’ the citizens.” Lafayette looked over his shoulder; through the leaves towards the town, letting his words sink into his Rangers. When he turned back, his face was solemn. “I am positive, some of you look forward to committing upon this town, _qu’elle_ has occurred at Harrisonville, Osceola, Nevada, Lone Jack, and so many other of our towns. Except, as your Captain, I do not condone such action.”

Reaching inside his tunic, he dug into his vest pocket, removing his cigarillo tin. About him, Lafayette heard his men and friends whispering to each other. Having lit the thin, black cigar, he released a cloud of bluish smoke that drifted from him in the wind.

“Earlier, I was reminded why I formed this unit,” he glanced at Thaddeus. “It was to serve justice to those who destroyed our home while protectin’ our fellow Missourians from the same fate. It is also why I have _jamais_ led an attack on a Kansas town; deep down, I have _toujours_ felt it would be hypocrisy. Although, as y’all know, I ain’t ever turned _m’_ cheek from a fight they brought to us. _Vraiment_ , I have been damn pleased to eliminate any _bâtards_ who have blundered into our State.”

Lafayette’s brows furrowed into ridges, for even though the men were quiet, letting him speak, he could see dissent in some of his Rangers. Taking a drag of his cigarillo, he pulled the sweet tobacco in, exhaling the smoke through his nose. Lafayette’s eyes drifted to Jackson, who was frowning, fingering his beard. “There are _quatre_ in this town, who are on our list. These are the only _quatre_ to be harmed.”

Lafayette noted how Stephen, Marty, and Jake sat straighter in their saddles along the back row, exchanging silent tight looks.

“For this purpose, I am only askin’ for a handful of select Rangers to enter this town. Rest of y’all, I would like you to stay out.”

Quinton shifted in his saddle, his buckskin taking a half-step. “Who would you take?”

“Those who have ridden with us from the _malheureux_ start.” Lafayette exhaled slowly, saying, “Jackson, Clyde, JT, Brody, Common, Gideon, Fox, Jimmy, Nate, and Reed.”

Quinton nodded. But before he could speak, Rance barked, “why not me? I rode with Gabe; I been with you from the start.”

“If’n this all goes wrong, you have the most experience.” Lafayette nodded to the older man. “You can lead the others.”

Nodding solemnly back, Rance McGreen’s gaze drifted across those surrounding him not mentioned. “All right, Capt’, I will watch over ’em.”

Wade Morrow spat on the ground. “You really sayin’ rest of us do not get to be part of this?”

“It is _qu’elle_ I am sayin’.”

“Fuck that, Capt’.” Wade’s round eyes turned hungrily to the last of the line of Quantrill’s men filing past.

Lafayette squinted at Wade, taking another pull on his smoke. “It is your right to feel that way.” His eyes drifted across the others, “and you are welcome to ride with Q.”

The group became silent, and Wade looked from Lafayette to Rance and then toward the town. “So if’n we ride with Q, we get to attack the town?”

Lafayette replied, “most certainly.”

Smiles leapt to several faces.

Dropping his leg back to his stirrup. Lafayette sat tall, smiling like a fox stalking chickens in a coop. The savagery of the smile flopped the eagerness which had appeared in some faces to confusion. “I do not trust Q nor believe in ‘em, and that is _m’_ right, to think as I wish. However, I will not force _m’_ thinkin’ on another.” With care, Lafayette looked into the face of each Ranger. “These years as your Captain, I have done all I could to keep y’all well-fed, safe, and from bein’ the demons, the newspapers so enjoy describin’ us as. However, if’n you choose to bring horror to women and children's doorsteps because Q wants it, just know you are _non_ longer _une_ of mine.” Gesturing to the road, Lafayette growled, “so who wants to ride with Q?”

Not a man moved. Although they kept not only their eyes, but their faces adverted from Lafayette.

“Tell y’all _qu’elle,_ make your choices after I ride out, if’n you wish.” Raising a hand, Lafayette snapped off a salute. “To all of you, I have been proud to be your Captain.”

When he and Thaddeus turned for the road, those named followed.

Rance called, “Capt’, I will watch over‘em.”

Raising a hand in farewell, Lafayette responded, “ _Merci beaucoup,_ McGreen, you are a _bonne monsieur_.”


	48. Chapter FORTY-SIX

Chapter Forty-Six

As Lafayette and his friends rode toward town, a ragged shout destroyed the afternoon stillness ahead of them. As those following Quantrill picked it up, the cry became a thundering, yipping roar.

More somber than any of them had ever heard him, JT asked, "Is that what we all sound like?"

Half under his breath, Nate muttered, "Lord have mercy." 

Looking to Lafayette, Jackson took in his pallor and how his reins were clenched in his hand. "You ready?"

Lafayette nodded stiffly, finding he had to work up the spit to say, "I am."

Sensing his pal’s, Jackson took the lead and, standing in his stirrups, hollered, "Rangers ride!" The group broke into a run. The same hair-raising baying howl rising unbidden from their throats. 

Dust was rolling in clouds above the false front wood buildings when they entered the town. The combined sound of Quantrill's men yelling, their horses, and gunfire made the boxed streets deafening. Here and there, people stared in abject terror as they huddled in an alley or behind windows. 

Halfway along the main thoroughfare, next to the Osaga Gazette, Lafayette halted before a sign reading, 'Assayer and Land Titles.' Stepping down, he said. "Common, Clyde, Gid, Reed with _moi,_ rest of'n y'all keep watch."

An immaculately dressed man stood in the doorway, and at their approach, he ducked inside.

Running after him, Clyde shouted, "Hold up, ya, hooplehead." Seizing the man, Clyde swung him around to bounce off the desk that squatted across one side of the room. 

Nonchalantly, as if it were a routine occurrence, Lafayette caught the sharp-featured man, righting him on his feet. " _Qu'elle_ is your name, _Monsieur_?"

The man gripped tight of the desk's edge. Looking for all the world as if he wished to climb over its wide surface to hide, as he stuttered, "Giles Sloan." 

" _Monsieur_ Sloan, I would like to examine your plot ownership ledger." 

Coming back to himself. Sloan tugged his vest down and, standing straighter, firmly stated, "that is confidential information."

Lafayette's eyes flicked to the shelves containing leather-bound ledgers and cubby holes of rolled maps. When they came back to Sloan, he rolled forth a pleasant smile. " _Monsieur_ Sloan, this is the last time, I shall ask so, _sil vous plait_ , retrieve the plot ledger."

Sloan turned to look at the same wall. His chest swelling with the breath he took, and he shook his head.

Lafayette pulled a Colt revolver. Shaking his head remorsefully at Brody, he then struck Sloan full in the face with the heavy weapon. 

The tall man flopped across his desk like a broken toy, a flailing arm, upsetting the inkwell. 

As the ink dripped with soft taps to the wood floor, Lafayette yanked Sloan onto his feet. "I am done askin'. So, you decide. You retrieve the damn ledger, or I will beat you senseless, leavin' you fuckin' lyin' here in a pool of your blood as your establishment burns."

"But…." Sloan wiped of his face. His hand came away red. He raised it before his eyes, staring with wild-eyed shock. 

" _Qu'elle_ is it to be?"

Dropping his hand, Sloan nodded. Inching about the periphery of his desk, he moved to the shelves. When he reached for a ledger, his hand froze inches from the book. 

"Do not think to deceive _moi."_

A murmured sound slipped from Sloan, and his will slid away, sounding like a sheaf of papers fluttering to the floor. Pulling the ledger, he offered it to Lafayette. 

More from habit than genuine appreciation, Lafayette took it, saying, " _Merci._ " Moving to the window for better light, he began skimming the listings. When he came to Sam Benson's name, he ripped out the page with a sly smile. Flipping more pages, he tore another free that held the address for Trent Hayden. Still searching the columns of text, he called, "Gid, find a town map, and gather any others that look worthwhile, while you are at it."

Tearing another page, Lafayette commented. "Do not see Shell, but lookee here, Streeper owns a Mercantile on Turner Street." Tucking the sheets in his pocket, Lafayette looked up to find Common and Brody smiling at him like children offered sweets. 

" _Qu'elle diable_?" 

Parting the pair revealed an oval table bearing a bronze statue, each detail alighted perfectly in the sunlight streaming from the window. 

Lafayette's eyebrows rose to his hairline, and his fingers were caressing the smooth, raised curvatures of the running horse without even recognizing he had moved. "Boreas." 

Hearing the name of Sienna's champion racer, Clyde looked from guarding Sloan, gasping, "all be damned."

The world snapped back in focus for Lafayette and rounding; he growled, "Where did you fuckin' come by this?"

Sloan's bowels gurgled loudly and licking his lips; he shook his head clumsily. 

Crossing the room in a rush, Lafayette shoved Sloan. 

The man stumbled back, falling with a crash into his desk chair. 

Bracing his hands on the arms of the chair, Lafayette got directly in the man's face. "Where did you come by this statue?" Then his smile alight with dimples filled his face. "Tell _moi_ the fuckin' truth!"

Sloan swallowed, opening his mouth.

Leaning closer, Lafayette said evenly and calmly. "I will know if ‘n _vous_ are lyin'."

Sloan croaked, "it came from Missouri."

A chuckle broke the tension, and Lafayette threw a hard look at Reed Chaplin. 

"What?! We all know that is the damn truth."

Arching a brow at him, Lafayette turned eyes filled with hate on Sloan.

Bowing his head, Sloan muttered, "I purchased it from Levi Shell."

"Where do I find Levi Shell?" Lafayette asked, closing the remaining space between himself and Sloan so his breath was hot on the man's face. 

"He is most often at the Green Fan Saloon on Lincoln Street."

Straightening, Lafayette gripped Sloan's collar dragging the man to his feet. " _vous_ shall point 'em out."

"Shell will kill me."

Lafayette struck Sloan a blow over his heart, and the assayer dropped to the floor. " _Qu'elle_ do _vous_ suppose I will do?"

On his hands and knees, Sloan panted heavily.

Gideon ground his boot atop his spread hand, and Sloan keened like a rabbit in a trap. "I deem it would be a sight easier if'n you did as Capt' wants."

Sloan nodded furiously.

Yanking on a buffalo hide tacked to the wall, Lafayette sent Indian keepsakes clattering across the room, and throwing the robe at Brody and Common, he snapped, "Wrap it up, and strap it to a horse." 

Striking a match, Reed proclaimed, in a high tone voice, "it is said, thievery is a sin, and I would say buyin' stolen goods is of equal measure." Lighting an oil lamp, he hurled it at the wall of maps and ledgers. The glass lamp shattered, becoming a fireball as Gideon propelled the horrified Sloan out the door after Clyde and Brody. 

Lafayette stared in astoundment at the flames coursing along the leather-bound books, thinking, ‘is this right to do? He was not at Sienna.’ 

Giving him a shove, Reed aimed him for the door, "Come on, Lafayette, this fucker is no better than them on the list." 

Smoke billowed around them as they exited the building, and a bullet whizzed past, smashing the window. 

Thaddeus, Fox, and JT spun as one, firing in succession. 

A balding man bent in two, his rifle falling from his hands as he collapsed to the boardwalk.

"CHIANT! When I leave y'all on guard, y'all is supposed to be doin' just that." Jabbing a hand at Brody, who was strapping the bulky buffalo hide bundle to a horse, Common had appropriated. "When he is done…" Lafayette pointed to Clyde, Common, and Reed. "Y'all take this horse with you and have that _bâtard_ point out Shell."

Thaddeus, already back in his saddle, looked down on his brother, asking, "you find the _de noms_?"

Leaping aboard Jericho, Lafayette pulled out the pages. "Gid, where is…" he paused as he scanned a page. "…Tucker Street?"

Gideon's brows rose, "Tucker?"

"Did you not get the damn maps?"

"I did." Gideon smiled lamely. "But I ain't much for bein' able to read small writin'."

Riding over, Jackson extended a hand.

With a sheepish smile, Gideon passed him a number of rolled, somewhat crushed maps.

In short order, Jackson was leading them along Tucker.

In front of 'Streeper General Mercantile,’ Lafayette climbed down. “Tad, Fox, Brody, Jimmy with _moi_ , rest of'n y'all are on guard. Damn-well,pay a mind this time."

Racing through the Mercantile's double doors that had been busted open, they surprised a man who was cursing the destruction already visited on the store. Stopping mid-word, he stared open mouth at them.

"You, Ed Streeper?" Brody asked. 

Without hesitation, the aproned man bolted. 

Brody said, "Hey, Tad, save us the chase."

The man stumbled, twisted, dropping to the floor. 

Smiling, Brody popped Thaddeus on the shoulder. "You sure are damn handy, at times."

Thaddeus quizzically replied, "At times?"

"Yeah! 'Cause you are also a damn pain in the ass at times."

Thaddeus’ chipped tooth, crooked grin appeared. 

Abruptly a blonde-haired man in a checked shirt leaped from behind a rack of seed drawers with a shotgun. 

Jimmy fired both his Colts, so fast they rang out like drumbeats before the double-aught was even raised, and the blonde flew backward with his blood misting the air.

Running over, Fox snagged the shotgun, flinging it to a far corner.

The man Thaddeus shot was strenuously pulling himself across the warped wood floor and walking by him; Lafayette blocked his way. "Ed Streeper!?" 

"What do you want with me?" 

"If'n you were an honorable man, I would want naught more than to purchase supplies. Alas, _Monsieur_ Streeper _vous_ are not an honorable man."

"What the fuckin’ hell you babblin’ on ‘bout?”

"Fall of '60 seems so long ago, does it not?"

A strange look came to Streeper's face.

"Your past has caught up with you." Squatting, Lafayette studied the man thoughtfully. "Your lack of surprise makes _moi_ question how many lives you ruined steppin' outside your State."

"If'n you have come to kill me, then do it and be done with it." 

Having walked up, Thaddeus said, "You are too willing. I want…" He dropped a knee on Streeper's splintered leg, wrenching a scream from the man. "…you to know why first. See, we are from near Harrisonville. Our home was nestled in a grove of cottonwoods in a green valley. It was a three-story brick with white columns across its front, and a rose stained-glass window." 

Streeper's mouth pulled tight, "I know it."

"You fuckin' bastard," Thaddeus cried, but inhaling deep, he gripped tight of his anger. "I have said your name, along with others from your group, each night before I go to sleep. It is only right, you know mine. I am Tad Crowe, and this is _m' frère_ , Lafe. We called our home Sienna, and you took everything from us, includin' _m'_ twin. She was the sweetest _mademoiselle_ to walk this earth, had _non_ notion of the evil men can do. Y'all left her to die slow and painful." Ramming his Remington in Streeper's belly, Thaddeus pulled the trigger. 

Ed Streeper jerked, crying out, his hands clasping at his bleeding stomach.

"I hope you fuckin' die slow! For this is what y'all did to _m’ doux_ twin." Spitting on him, Thaddeus stood, walking rigidly outside. 

Touching a finger to the brim of his hat, Lafayette smiled brilliantly as he stood. "Enjoy your due process, _Monsieur_ Streeper _._ "

The evening sun slanted hot and gold across the town, a murky fog crawling between the buildings. Except it was not fog, but smoke. Osaga felt haunted, the glass panes of its business' staring at them like hollow eyes. 

Kicking Nero into a run, Jackson led them toward the next location on the ledger pages. Rounding a corner onto Walnut, they tore down the eerily empty street until Jackson reined in so tight, Nero skidded to a stop. "If'n I have read the map accurately, this will be the residence of Trent Hayden."

Thaddeus touched his heels to Cain, and the stallion cleared the short, painted white split rail fence with Ebby right behind him. 

As the horses' hooves landed in the yard, a stout, red-faced young woman stalked from the house. "What is the meaning of this?"

Ignoring her question, Fox asked, "Are you, Mrs. Hayden?"

Training hard eyes on Fox, she crossly replied. "I am, and I still want to know," she flung a hand at the horses in her tidy yard. "What is the meaning of this?"

Leaving Jericho ground tied in the road, Lafayette passed an order for his men to encircle the yard, even as he strolled through the garden gate. "Where is your husband, _Madame_?"

Crossing her arms below her ample bosom. She assessed Lafayette from his tall boots to his embroidered war tunic, to his four holstered revolvers. Unwittingly, her eyes went to her home, and as if realizing what she was doing, she spun back to face Lafayette, insisting, "He is not here!" 


	49. Chapter FORTY-SEVEN

Chapter Forty-Seven

Lafayette sized up the solidly built story-and-a-half house with its blue trim before directing his attention to the woman. When he did, he beamed at her like a young man who has come a-courting. “Defendin’ _une_ you adore is a commendable trait. I would do likewise, except your husband aided in takin’ such a possibility from _moi_. Once more, I respectfully ask, where shall I find _Monsieur_ Hayden?”

Mrs. Hayden flexed her jaw and, gathering her determination, took a step toward Lafayette. “I will not say where Trent is.” Sweeping a stray curl from her face, she lifted her chin.

Lafayette smiled, glancing to Jimmy, who shook his head.

“I am not scared of any one of you, and additionally, you cannot make me say where Trent is.”

“Reckon you are correct,” Lafayette replied. Hitching his thumbs in his belt holster. “Even though your husband abused, defiled, and murdered the _mesdemoiselles_ of our home. I can and will not reduce _mon_ self to such a monstrous level.” 

Considering his words, she wrapped her arms about herself as if a winter wind had circled her.

“Rangers go on and light this place up—every stick from the outhouse to the _maison_.”

Mrs. Hayden’s face shifted to a distinct greenish shade when Jimmy busted the rocking chair from her porch, collecting the pieces in her flower garden to start a fire.

“ _Madame_ , if’n you _famille_ inside,” Lafayette drawled cordially, “I would hustle ‘em out right quick.”

“Are you honestly going to burn my house?”

“Most certainly, just the same as your husband did ours.” Lafayette motioned to the front door. “Any _famille_ you wish to retrieve?”

Her fortitude slipping, she quavered, “my son.”

“ _S'il vous plaît_ , Nate, Fox, escort‘er?”

“I can retrieve him by myself.”

“Positive you can, _Madame_. Nevertheless, they are to guarantee it is only an _enfant_ you fetch out.”

JT dumped an armful of dry grass on the fire Jimmy had started. The flames licked up the grass, springing higher, and Jimmy began feeding it pieces of the shattered rocker.

Tearing the clothesline from its poles, Thaddeus dropped the twisted knot of clothing and rope into the fire.

When Mrs. Hayden was ushered out with a wailing toddler gripped to her body, Jackson seized a trailing end of the clothesline, flinging the flaming mess through the front door. Other windows were broken, and soon flames were leaping a dance macabre throughout the house.

Hugging her child tight, Mrs. Hayden moaned, “you did not permit me to save anything.”

“Sorry, Ma’am,” Fox said, brightly. “But it was you, Kansans, who instructed us all in the correct method of burnin’ a soul’s home.” Then with a churlish laugh, he mockingly bowed to her.

Fire snaked through the wood-frame house, specks of debris and ash surging heavenward on the shimmering heatwaves.

Powerless to tear her eyes away, Mrs. Hayden cried. “Go! Just go! Have you not done enough?” Spinning, she screeched, "Get! Just get! Leave my homeless child and me to our misery."

Exchanging a meaningful look with Jimmy as he walked by, Lafayette shouted. "Cordon the house, I deem our prey is 'bout to emerge."

"He is not here! Leave you, black-hearted dogs! LEAVE!"

There was the shatter of breaking glass, and flames spurted from a second-story window, along with a man who landed in the withering grass.

Sauntering over, Lafayette said, "Trent Hayden, your judgment has arrived."

Rearing up, Hayden leveled a revolver, and a bullet tore through Lafayette's left sleeve.

Before another move could be made, Gideon sprinted forward, shooting Hayden in the head.

The man's body hung in the air as he reached for something unseen, then flopped backward.

Blood spouted from a hole in his cheek, and Gideon peered down into Hayden's blinking eyes. "Humph! Always considered a headshot to be amply sufficient." Gideon spat a stream of chaw in Trent Hayden's gasping face. "That is for Gabe and Web, better men than you ever imagined to be." Setting his Colt’s barrel right between Hayden's eyes, Gideon pulled the trigger even as the man weakly clasped hold of his hand.

A high-pitched scream spiraled from Mrs. Hayden, and as if it were a signal, any not mounted, returned to their horses.

She whirled about, slinging her child with her like a ragdoll, to face Lafayette and found him gone. Running after him, she caught his arm as he reached for Jericho’s reins. “Are you satisfied?”

Her fingers clenched near where the bullet had burned his arm. Instead of pulling from the pain, she was inflicting, he coolly laid his hand atop hers. “Satisfaction has naught to do with any of this.”

“Then, why?” She bounced her child, hushing him without realizing she was doing so. “Why!?”

“Murderin’ another’s _famille_ comes at a price. Lamentably, your husband did not weigh the cost beyond his greedy wants.” Lafayette’s eyes filled with sadness as he studied her face. “You knew he traveled across the Border.”

She nodded, her lips becoming a thin line.

“Then perhaps it is I who should be demanding why?

A tear broke from her lash line, tracing down her red face.

“Truthfully, I am aggrieved for both of’n us. Because of your husband’s choices...you and I have lost everything.”

A small tight smile flitted across Mrs. Hayden’s face, and she nodded.

“ _Mon_ self, possibly more as the vengeance he and his colleagues branded into _moi_ , has caused _moi_ to forfeit _m’_ soul.” Unwrapping her hand from his forearm, he nodded sadly, “ _Mon_ sincere apologies, _Madame_.”

Swinging into his saddle, Lafayette moved up between Jackson and Brody, who were awaiting him. Midway along the street, he looked back. 

In the center of the road, Mrs. Hayden stood caressing her toddler’s head. Uncertain why, he raised a hand in farewell.

Slowly, she did as well.

Turning forward, he thought, ‘how strange that in the end, we should feel solace in each other’s suffering.’ Twisting, he looked once more, and she was gone.

Reaching Osaga’s Main street, where it crossed another road, they discovered the townsmen corralled together. On riding closer, they spotted Clyde, Common, and Reed with their hostage, Giles Sloan.

“Saloon was already cleaned out when we arrived.” Clyde indicated the men collected like cattle. “We are supposin’ Levi Shell is bunched in there.”

Reed nodded in agreement, adding, “I would not be startled if’n Sam Benson is not also.”

Dismounting, Lafayette passed Jericho’s reins to Jackson. Tipping his hat back, he walked to Sloan, “Do you see ’em?”

Releasing a shuddering sigh, Sloan replied. “I have reconsidered my position and concluded, I shall endure a thrashing as I do not intend to point him out.”

Lafayette dropped his head, inhaling deep, the left dimple pulsating in his cheek.

Fox released a snorting giggle. “Woo Wee! Ya has done screwed yaself.”

Sloan’s eyes drifted to Fox.

“Whenever Capt.’s dimple goes off like that, we all know there is damn well fixin’ to be blood on the ground.”

“ _Ta gueule_ , Fox!”

Swallowing his giggling, Fox pleaded, “no harm meant, Capt’, just statin’ what we all know.”

Motioning over a young man from Quantrill’s group, Lafayette asked, “where is your Captain?”

Throwing back his shoulders, the boy nastily demanded. “Who is askin’?”

“Captain Lafayette Crowe of Cass.” It darted through Lafayette’s mind, ‘still seems odd referrin’ to _mon_ self this way as I _jamais_ fancied a military vocation.’ But his considerations were shoved aside when the young man came to stiff, unyielding attention.

With utter politeness, he, “I understand Captain Quantrill to be over on the eastly corner, Captain Crowe, Sir.”

“Then be a good _garçon_ and run over to find out if’n you are accurate, for _moi_.”

“Will do, Captain Crowe, Sir.”

Having joined Lafayette, Brody sniggered. "Do not deem Q is goin' to mosey along over here to chat with you."

"Oh, I will not dispute you on that either." Lafayette smirked over at his pal, "merely savin' _mon_ self the effort of hunting 'em up."

A rolling wave of hushed whispering spread through the area. Before Lafayette and his pals had finished reloading their firearms, Quantrill was sauntering their way.

"Humph! Seems we were incorrect." Brody said, touching Lafayette on the shoulder, so he turned about in time to meet Quantrill.

"Word is, Crowe, you wish to consult with me."

Brody quirked, "Word sure travels fast."

Darkly, Quantrill's pale eyes roamed over the men who served him. "Seems another point I failed to understand regarding you is how taken others are with you."

Arching a brow at the man, Lafayette slid a reloaded Colt into his shoulder holster.

"From what I have gleaned…" Quantrill paused to appraise Thaddeus, sitting with one leg curled across the shoulders of his saddle, smoking. "Many view your brother's and yours ride for vengeance as heroic, and endlessly they talk of your Rangers loyalty to Missouri."

Releasing a smoke ring, Thaddeus smiled down at Quantrill.

Blandly returning the smile, Quantrill reverted his attention to Lafayette. "Did my knowledge allow you a victorious hunt?"

" _Oui_ ," Lafayette answered. Removing his hat, he hooked its stampede string on his saddle. "However, it seems y'all may have snagged a couple of our rabbits in your trap." Running a hand through his hair, Lafayette considered the townsmen. "Did you collect all the men here?"

"All we found."

"You plannin' on paroling 'em once y'all are done hurrahing Osaga?"

"Seriously contemplating it. Do you yearn for another end?"

Lafayette briskly shook his head, "just want _deux_ men."

Quantrill nodded, gazing about at Lafayette's friends. "You appear a bit light of Rangers."

Dropping his poker face in place, Lafayette stared flat-footed at Quantrill.

Scowling, Brody crossed his arms across his deep chest. "What has that to do with us talkin' with the gents you have corralled?"

Pushing forth a smile that held no sincerity, Quantrill responded. "Not a thing." He gestured to his captives, "be my guest."

Remembering that while waiting, Sloan had decided not to be of assistance, a frown creased Lafayette's face. He glanced at the man, thinking. 'I have _non_ intention of allowin' Shell, who I know was inside Sienna to escape, or Benson either, for that matter.' His mouth quirked to the side, 'if'n this gets bloody, even brutal... who should I have beside _moi_?" After a moment's reflection, it came to him. 'Gabe's pals. They were defendin' the Border with _m' grand frère_ while I still maintained justice could be obtained in a courtroom.'

Nudging Brody to follow him, Lafayette called, "Common, Gid come on along." Then locking hold of Sloan's collar, Lafayette herded the man before him, with his eldest Rangers encircled about him.

Gravel crunched beneath boots as someone leapt from their horse. Without turning, Lafayette said, "Tad, you and the others remain in your saddles, _s'il vous plaît_."

Racing about his brother, Thaddeus argued, "but I have—"

"Already tasted richly of vengeance today. Now, I require you and the others to be our rearguard."

Thaddeus' eyes filled with pleading.

Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Brody softly said, "go on, Taddy, you rightly know how critical a rearguard can be."

Thaddeus' shoulders hung low as he returned to Cain.

Pushing Sloan over to Common, Lafayette moved closer to the townsmen whose eyes darted from him to Sloan to the other invaders of their town and back.

Placing two fingers to his lips, Lafayette blasted an earsplitting whistle, and all eyes were on him. "I have been informed, _m' de nom_ and activities are talked of. So, perhaps knowing that I am Captain Lafayette Crowe will substantiate the enormity of _m' visite_ to y'all."

The silence held as those present listened to the curious dialect of the infamous Captain Crowe.

"Amongst you stand a pair who are guilty of destruction of assets, theft, murder, and…rape."

The men shifted, looking sharply to those standing near them.

"I want you to understand, I will have these villains. _Mon_ Rangers and I have not entered your town or any other for the gratification of hurrahing and lootin'. We crossed the Border solely to dole out justice, which is not granted to us by the prevailing judicial order.' Unveiling his dimpled smile, Lafayette stepped closer. "I mean to have them, even if'n I must bleed each of you dry to find 'em."

Brody, Common, and Gideon each unholstered a revolver, and a charge of panic surged through the grouped men. Many of them gawking fearfully at Quantrill's men restraining them.

Placing his fingers to his lips, Lafayette released another braying whistle. "Cease frettin'. I do not aim to butcher y’all like diseased animals. Simply, hand over Levi Shell and Sam Benson to receive their judgment."

The crowd milled, but none emerged.

"I deem y'all do not have faith in the strength of my intent." In one smooth move, Lafayette drew a Colt, thumbed the hammer, and shot Giles Sloan in the back of the head.

Blood and gray matter spattered the closest townsmen, and they struggled back, trying to avoid the corpse Common shoved at them.

"I would suppose I just strengthened your faith. Would not y'all say?"

The men clustered tight together.

"Gid, pull _moi_ another."

Gideon Barnett chose a drop shouldered man wearing an empty holster and mule-ear boots. Hauling him out, Gideon kicked the man in the back of his legs, driving him to his knees.

When Lafayette laid a hand on the man's bent shoulder, he could feel fear vibrating through the man. Gripping him tighter, he leaned in, peacefully saying. "Reveal Levi Shell and Sam Benson, and you will be released."

"Please, I got family, do not kill me."

"Then point 'em out."

The man shook his head, "Mister, please, do not shoot me; I am not even from here."

Lafayette cocked the Colt.

"Do you not have a conscience?"

"Not anymore. It departed as I watched _m’_ sister die after being gutshot by those who invaded _m’_ home. Now, would you like to point out Shell and Benson?"

"I declare by God I do not know them."

Lafayette raised his black eyes to the crowd, "would y'all like to send 'em out."

There was movement, but none came to the front.

Placing the Colt's barrel to the back of the man's head, Lafayette pulled the trigger. "Common, pull another from down there."

Walking along the line, Common spied a man in a tailored, expensive broadcloth suit. Snagging him by his tie, he dragged him choking, and squealing to the front.

Stepping behind the weeping man, Lafayette wrapped an arm about his neck, forcing him to his knees. "Heaven stood open and there before I was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice, he judges and makes war. _Monsieur_ , do _vous_ see the horse?"

"Please, no…"

"Possibly, instead, you see Levi Shell or Sam Benson."

The man hesitantly raised his hand, pointing to a short, husky man wearing a gaudy vest and garter armbands. “There is Levi Shell.”

Shell roared, "you fuckin' coward!” and dived backward through his fellow townsmen.

Brody waded in; the men parting before him and shooting an arm about Shell's neck, he drug him out. "The coward is you, letting others fall in your stead."

A stern, gaunt young man who looked to have bitten into something bitter stepped forward. "I am Sam Benson. But I want to know where I committed these crimes."

Lafayette took a breath, and in his best orator's voice, spoke of Sienna and what befell his family. As he talked, his deep baritone was the only sound to be heard, and when he finished, he swung his eyes to Sam Benson.

"It is as you say, and I was there." Benson admitted, sliding his eyes to Shell, "just as he was."

As Lafayette turned from one man to the other, rage made a parody of his handsome young face as he shouted, "But why? WHY!?"

"Greed," Benson answered, his voice low and sad. "Never once have I reflected what I done in Missouri… from y'alls side of the fence. Hearing you, I mourn my choices. I am sincerely sorry about your sister. I had no knowledge of what transpired in the house. I was emptying the barn and setting it alight." He passed a tight shameful smile to Lafayette. "If'n it makes you feel any better, your brother and that huge nigger destroyed eight of ours, couple of 'em agonizing for days before dying."

His words caused Lafayette’s face to harden. "We have garnered twenty-five rode onto our land. Do you concur?"

Benson responded, "that would be correct."

"Then after you _duex_ , all we have left is Lieutenant Matthew O'Rourke. Can you acquaint _moi_ to his whereabouts?"

"I will not feed another to Lucifer's fires. Although, if'n you have conveyed all but he to Hell, it seems as if your path has been guided." Dropping his chin to his thin chest, Sam Benson breathed heavily. "I beg your forgiveness."

"Though you have shown yourself better than others, _Monsieur_ Benson, I must confess forgiveness _non_ longer resides in _m'_ heart. Although I will give you time to get yourself right with the Lord, and that Sir is more than I have provided others."

Sam Benson closed his eyes.

"And you." Lafayette spun on his heel to Shell being throttled by Brody, "you entered our home."

"Fuck you, Puke, I will not beg or tremble for you." Raising his chin, Shell spat at Lafayette. "I helped string up your old man and enjoyed hearing him strangle."

With a guttural grunt, Brody rammed his Colt in Shell's ribs, firing upwards into his body three times. When he pushed the man from him, he was dead before he hit the ground. Rearing back, Brody slammed his boot into Shell's gut. "Fuckin’ trash.” He kicked the corpse again, "Gawd damn trash!"

Swallowing hard, Lafayette fell back, struggling with the emotions welling up from Shell's words. Turning back to Benson, he stammered, "you ready?"

Benson raised his face, exposing dirty tracks of tears. "I wish I had not brought myself to this."

"Do you have anything more you wish to say?"

"Only it is right for greed to be one of the seven deadly sins, for look what it prompted me to do and what it has turned you into."

"Amen," Lafayette murmured, setting the Colt to Benson's heart. "We shall meet again in Hell, _Monsieur_ Benson." Exhaling, he pulled the trigger.

As the foursome walked back to the horses, Quantrill followed closely, calling Lafayette's name.

"Not now, Clarke. We can speak another time."

Swinging into his saddle, Lafayette kicked Jericho, and the big red took off.

Surrounded by his Rangers, but actually more than Rangers, his friends. The boys he had grown to manhood with, his closest friends. Utter anguish filled Lafayette that he had drug them down a road as disturbing as the one Sam Benson had selected. The anguish became a flood of regret. Regret not only for his soul but those souls of his friends and that regret flowed from him in streams that the wind dried to invisible, salty ribbons along his face and neck.


	50. Chapter FORTY-EIGHT

Chapter Forty-Eight

**Monday, 6th of July 1863**

All of the Crowe Rangers had remained with Rance, for after a minimal discussion, they concluded Lafayette had spoken true about how he guided and cared for them. It had taken three days to reach a position near where Quantrill stated his scouts had designated his action should transpire.

During the journey, the Crowe Rangers had ridden jovially among the other units. Distributing tales of their past exploits and pride for their Captain, who they illuminated as being the most steadfast and devout to his troops of any Captain present.

Yet, Lafayette, in contrast, had not done the same. He had pulled back into himself. In his characteristic fashion, Lafayette reviewed all that happened in Osaga. With each replaying, his remorse regarding Osaga, along with what he had done these past four years, grew.

Now, in the early morning, early enough, the frogs were still piping, and the birds had not begun their songs, he lay awake. A half-moon hung massive on the horizon, the thick humidity gifting it an ethereal background. 

Sticky with sweat, Lafayette pulled on his boots, picked up a Colt, and left his bedroll. Gently padding through his Rangers, careful not to wake them, he edged to the outskirts of their camp where he whistled lowly to their sentry.

Moving clear of a tree, he had secluded himself behind Jacob Rawlins peered inquisitively through the dim light to determine who of his camp was stirring.

Waving to him, Lafayette kept on for the river. For over an hour, he had laid listening to the rippling water and had come to accept it was beckoning him.

Shedding his clothes, folding them, and laying his revolver atop the pile, he stepped into the river. The water was cold enough to send shivers up his legs, yet he walked on in, letting the chilly water wrap about him.

Gingerly, he felt his way along until the water reached above his ribs. Lifting his rosary from his chest, he ran the beads between his fingertips. “ _Dieu_ , I feel lost. I need not explain _m’_ sins as _vous_ have witnessed them. I understand that as our _Père_ , your _amour_ pardons our sins. Yet, _Dieu_ , how am I to forgive _mon_ self? I have not resisted evil. I have not turned the other cheek; rather, I have taken lives. There is _non_ graciousness in _moi_...I believe I have lost all that was _bonne_ in _moi_.”

In the moonlight, the water flowed about him like liquid silver, and rolling back his head, onto his shoulders, Lafayette examined the heavens. A breeze eddied down the water, causing gooseflesh to rise across his exposed skin. “ _Dieu_ , I believe _vous_ _amour_ _moi_. _S’il vous plaît_ help _moi_.” Lifting the crucifix to his lips, he kissed it. “Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

Taking a breath, he plunged beneath the water. All went silent. There was only the swirling water and himself. He remained submerged until his lungs felt they would burst. When he stood, the water streamed from him, and he curiously ran a finger along the scar on his left breast, the Calvary saber had gifted him.

He then felt of his other scars. The brawl at the Red Crescent Saloon. The puckered round ones in his legs. Once more, he took up his rosary. “ _Vous_ have protected _moi_ thus far, _doux Mère Marie_ …” Kissing the crucifix, he intoned, “perhaps _vous_ will proceed to do so a bit longer, but I have released of _m’_ fear and _Mère Marie_ if’n this is _m’_ day to die, to feel your light, I am ready.”

By the time he returned to camp, the birds were calling, and his men were beginning to stir. On passing Jackson, his friend sat up, “Lafe?”

He paused.

“You all right?”

Lafayette smiled down at his pal, “I am.”

Continuing to his bedroll, he belted on his holsters. Their weight feeling reassuring, and as he turned, he nodded to Jackson, who was still studying him. ‘If’n anyone here ever grasps _m’_ feelings, it is he.’

Lafayette went to the central fire and stirred up the coals. When it was glowing, sparking brightly from the tinder he had fed it, he began cutting bacon in pans. As Lafayette worked, he noted a scout weaving toward Quantrill’s section of camp and thought, ‘it is time.’

Standing, Lafayette passed through his men, nudging them, “we will be traveling soon; roll out _garçons_ , and pack your gear.”

Returning to the fire, he poured himself a cup of coffee as John Jarrette strolled up, “Captain Quantrill says all are to be in their saddles within the hour; he wants to depart before the sun is up.”

“Saw the scout come in,” Lafayette replied. “ _Café_ is from last night, but it is hot.”

He offered a cup to John Jarrette. Peeping over his shoulder, John shrugged and squatted, taking the coffee.

Lafayette stonily asked, “Is the fight today, or is Q merely movin’ us again?”

John’s eyes sparkled from behind the coffee cup he was sampling. Lowering it, he said, “you certainly do not care much for ’em.”

“Make it obvious, do I?”

“Not most times, but Cole pointed it out to me, and since then, I discern it more readily.”

Lafayette grinned, “how is Cole?”

“Oh, you know how them Youngers are, always a rarin’ for a fight.” John plucked a slice of bacon from a pan, blowing on it, he skillfully sucked the hot meat down. “Gotta move, best of luck to you and your men, Lafayette. He is puttin’ us in position to fight.”

Jarrette’s words proved straight. For soon enough, they were tramping along a road boarding a high ridge, with orders being couriered up and down the line.

The Crowe Rangers were in the middle of the line. Their dark war tunics blending them in with the surrounding units, only their horses and black crow feathers placing them apart. Having spoken to each of his men to check their readiness, Lafayette, at last, reined Jericho in beside Nero.

“They all set?”

“I believe so.” Lafayette grinned tightly over at Jackson. “Just best not be anything like we experienced in Arkansas. I will _jamais_ pardon _mon_ self if’n I am pointing ’em to slaughter in payment for _m’_ revenge.”

“It is like we have each stated, we knew the possibilities when we appointed you as our Captain.”

Lafayette twisted in his saddle, shaking his head, “still find it amazin’ how many answered Quantrill’s call. There are ’bout as many here that we know, as we do not.”

A rangy man with a doughy youthful face came down the line, his head pivoting left and right. When he spotted Lafayette, he sped up, reining his golden mare to walk next to Jericho. “There ya are. Spotted ya brother’s big gray; hot damn, but that beast stands out. Figured ya would be close by.”

Nodding cordially, Lafayette said, “ _Bonjour_ , _qu’elle_ might I do for _vous_ , _Monsieur_?” As he spoke, he noted a look about the man’s blue eyes and mouth of one who carried a streak of meanness.

“Ha! My cousin told me y’all was Creoles, by goodness, once knew a man went by Anton Chantal who spoke that a way.”

Lafayette, unconsciously, shook his head to indicate he did not know Chantal.

“Course not, just sayin’ anyway….” The big man wiped a hand down his thigh before offering it. “Sam Hildebrand, my cousin is Mags.”

Lafayette grinned, “that so. Mags from Harrisonville?”

“That would be ‘er, but she moved on down to Arkansas.”

“ _Desole_ to hear that, Mags is one fine, _Madame._ ”

“We all in the family think pretty highly of the ol’ gal ourselves. But I came lookin’ for y’all, hopin’ yuse Crows would charge with my bunch. Word goes ‘round that when the ball is opened, y’all do not back down.”

When Lafayette did not immediately reply, Hildebrand’s face stiffened a bit. “My boys are a tough bunch. Ain’t a slouch ridin’ with me. Ol’ Quantrill puts us on the south bank, and he says we are to swoop down, catchin’ ‘em blue-bellies by surprise.” His pale eyes roved over Lafayette’s Rangers. “Hell, I estimate way y’all is mounted; Quantrill was a fool not to assign y’all to the charge. Which is another reason I am invitin’ yuse to ride with us.”

Regarding his Rangers. . . his friends, Lafayette’s gaze became far away.

“Well?”

“Be proud, too,” Lafayette replied.

Hildebrand leaned back in his saddle, really taking Lafayette in, “yuse sure yuse is up to this.”

Lafayette turned sharp eyes on the man. “Damn right, we are.”

“Then stick close,” Hildebrand said. “We all will show ’em the rough end of the stick.”

When he moved out, Lafayette called, “Rance, Brody takes the point and follow Hildebrand. We will be enterin’ the fray with his bunch.” He peered back down the line, “I will herd up any stragglers.”

Drawing to the side, Lafayette nodded to his Rangers, who rode gleefully by, saluting him and tossing out ribald jokes. Glancing to Jackson at his side, Lafayette exhaled deeply. “They all act as if we are ridin’ to a County barbeque or huntin’ foray.”

Absently stroking his beard, Jackson replied, “they always do.”

Passing by, Lee ball saluted Lafayette, calling, “Hey, Doc, you been practicin’ your stitchin’?”

Jackson glowered at the tall man, not answering him. But, to Lafayette, he said, “Ain’t it curious how being a leader has you lookin’ at situations differently.”

Lafayette only grunted in reply and digging under his war tunic; he fetched his cigarillo tin from his vest pocket. Opening it, he offered one to Jackson.

Taking one of the little cigars, Jackson winked at him, sassing. “You handin’ out smokes, my goodness, if’n this is not an abnormality.”

“Do not get used to it. I am sure I will burn through ’em and be back to bummin’ from you soon enough.”

Jackson chuckled, “Would not expect any less of you, Bub.”

After lighting their cigarillos, Lafayette and Jackson fell in after the last Crowe Rangers, which as usual, was Zebidiah Collier and Moses Judd.

The forest became sparser, and soon a field could be seen flowing away from the humped back ridge they were riding along. Within the area was a garrison of troops, their white tents resembling mushrooms in the glistening dew-covered grass.

Up and down the line, men dismounted, tying remuda stock to trees, before tightening girth straps and latigo strings. As they did, they cast glances into the vale at the unwelcome visitors who intended to bring irreparable harm to their State, and their nervousness swelled to seething anger.

Settling back in his saddle, Thaddeus complained. _“Feu de l’enfer_ , this far from the border, they cannot have anything we would fuckin’ care for on their minds.”

Fox pointed out the two lines of covered wagons, “Bet those are what we are here for.”

Thaddeus narrowed his eyes as he considered them, “I would say so, ’cause those ain’t fuckin’ wagons but caissons.”

Lafayette checked his revolvers, ensuring the humidity had not caused them to grip too tight in their holsters. Taking on such a large encampment brought to mind harrowing memories of what battles in Arkansas had inflicted on his Rangers. “Hey, Tad”

His brother’s green eyes slanted Lafayette’s way.

“Watch yourself down there, Taddy.”

"You also _Grand Frère_."

Lafayette's eyes roamed across his Rangers, each of them packing five or more loaded revolvers and the pockets of their war tunics hanging heavy with the weight of additional loaded cylinders. Taking a settling breath, he rubbed Jericho’s neck.

Far away on the left, there was a Bobwhite’s call, a Robin replied from the far right. The men tensed, their horse’s tremoring beneath them. The Bobwhite called again, and the Missourians burst from the scant tree line. The ground vibrating beneath their running horses as they surged from the ridge like an avalanche.


	51. Chapter FORTY-NINE

Chapter Forty-Nine

The tranquil, morning camp exploded into action. Yet, they were two jumps behind the bullet as the Missouri Rangers and Guerilla Bushwhackers were already among them.

Thaddeus, Fox, Teague, Wade, Jeremiah, and Rose flew down the ridge together. At the camp's picket lines, soldiers were frantically tacking agitated horses. Pointing to them, Thaddeus led the others in for an attack.

Throwing his weight back in his saddle to slow Cain, Thaddeus shot with both hands. One man after another going down just like the cans, he used to peg off the old log back at Sienna during target practice.

Weaving in among the men, Teague and Fox cut the picket lines, and waving their arms, yelled, "Hi Yah! Get!"

The mayhem their group created had Thaddeus grinning like a child at a fair. Firing from his hip at a man raising a carbine, he hollered, "Come on, y'all, let us chase off the rest of their mounts."

With a chorus of rebel yells, the group streaked toward the Militia’s second-string picket lines. Except, Michael Rose reeled in his saddle, a second bullet striking him near the first, he fell forward, sliding along the neck of his horse, dead before he hit the ground.

On another part of the field, three Unionist sank to one knee, raising their Enfields.

Shifting his weight, Brody stepped hard in his left stirrup, altering Artorius' path.

Common, Bill, and Shep flowing along with him.

The Enfields blossomed smoke with a bright burst of flame.

Brody's cluster of Rangers fired, cutting down the trio as they were hauling out their ramrods to reload. Swinging wide, Brody noted Common Smith's horse passing him with an empty saddle even as he and the others began firing on new targets.

Along the left-wing of the battle, Reed, Jimmy, Albert, Clyde, and JT had become mixed with Hildebrand's men, with him shouting. "Do not let those rats reach the caissons."

Kicking their sturdier, faster horses, the five Crowe Rangers cut off the soldiers racing for the caissons. When they fired into the partially dressed soldiers, the men turned back only to discover Hildebrand's men also handing out death.

Reaching the end of the line, Reed's collection of Ranger's circled.

Clyde gripped tight of his saddle, lurching with each step Maia made running after her trailmates; wrapping his uninjured arm in his reins, Clyde slowed the mare. Knowing he was being left behind, Clyde called for his cousins, Albert and JT. Then he felt like a hammer hit him, knocking all his wind from him. Gripping his chest, Clyde fought to breathe, tasting blood in his mouth.

Hands were on him, and Maia squealed, bobbing her head. Clyde wanted to fight them off, make them release his horse, but he was being dragged from his saddle, hitting the ground with a thud. Again, Clyde felt he could not breathe. Nearby he heard ragged screaming and struggled to his knees.

Abruptly, the soldiers who had drug him down were collapsing like stacks of cards, their blood spraying across him, and Lakota's long white legs were beside him. Blinking up in dismay, Clyde discerned it was JT screaming and doing the shooting.

A man in an unbuttoned blue sack coat ran directly at Clyde, the jacket flapping over his bare torso. Jerking his bowie knife from its sheath, JT dove from his horse, landing on the man, the blade ripping upward through his bare belly.

Slumping back on the ground, Clyde panted for air, watching JT as he stood over him, plunging his blade in any who came near.

Circling his big bay about the pair, Reed shouted, "Jesus wept, Jimmy, hurry the fuck up!" firing rapidly on Blue Coats, rushing their way.

Leaping to the ground, Jimmy slid his arms under Clyde's shoulders and legs. "Holds on to me, Clyde. I be for tossing ya up on Lakota."

"JT gets yourself up behind 'em," Reed ordered, dropping an empty revolver and pulling another to continue firing.

Then they were charging for the trees, with JT's arm wrapped about his cousin, as he called. "I got ya, Clyde. I got ya."

Near the middle of the field was a double line of square Officer's tents. Lafayette, followed by Rance, Gideon, Zeb, Charlie, and Quinton circled them, shooting any who moved.

A man wearing only pale blue pants leapt from the end tent's doorway.

Seeing movement, Lafayette spun Jericho and gawked with shock; before him was a tall, lean man, his thick red hair standing at wild ends from sleep with a carbine hanging forgotten in his hand.

Lafayette bellowed, "YOU!"

Just as swiftly, the redhead roared back, "CROWE!"

"Been lookin' for you," Lafayette answered, vaulting from Jericho, crashing into Lieutenant Sean O'Rourke, the man’s carbine slipping from his hand as he skidded across the grass.

The pair came up fast, their face’s twisted and ugly with rage.

O'Rourke dropped his head and charged, intent on barreling into Lafayette.

Lafayette pivoted as he had done so many times in fencing matches, driving a fist low in O'Rourke's ribs that made the man grunt.

Kicking out, O'Rourke's heel caught Lafayette in the thigh, off-balancing him enough that each man had a moment to gather themselves. Then they were head to head sparring, trading quick hard blows.

Rolling his shoulder and ducking, Lafayette came in low, following his opening blow to O'Rourke's ribs with both fists.

The man gasped.

With a smirk, Lafayette came at him again. This time too fast, and O'Rourke caught him with a straight left, splitting Lafayette's lip, so blood ran freely. Springing in, O'Rourke followed the blow with two quick, jarring rabbit punches and aimed a knee for Lafayette's groin.

Except, once more, Lafayette pivoted, raising an arm, he elbowed O'Rourke in the throat.

O'Rourke's face turned white, and he clawed at his throat, gagging for air.

Circling him, Lafayette planted three fierce punches in O'Rourke's kidneys that drove the man to his knees. Snagging O'Rourke's hair, Lafayette twisted the man's head back, exposing his gulping throat.

Their eyes drilled into one another.

Reaching behind his back, Lafayette removed a revolver from his beltline. "You fuckin' _bâtard_ , you fuckin' _bâtard_ , you caused all this…."

When the barrel jammed against O'Rourke's temple, he croaked out a harsh, disturbing laugh that displayed his bloody teeth. "And may you continue to suffer, Crowe."

Lafayette's nose wrinkled tight, hatred raging wild through him as he pulled the trigger.

O'Rourke's dead weight slipped from his grasp.

Staring at the corpse, Lafayette thought. 'It was not enough. It was not enough.' While standing there, a bullet burrowed into his calf, searing pain ripping him back to the battle raging about him.

Twisting, Lafayette opened up on the man who had shot him, one bullet drilling him through the left eye.

Once more left alone, Lafayette spotted a shirt on O'Rourke's bed cot, and hauling himself to it, he tore it into strips binding the blood flowing from his leg. Then scanning the action near him, he sought what next needed achieved, and where Jericho had gone.

Gideon and Frank dispatched two men coming out of another tent.

Another came up behind the two Rangers, and Rance spun Big Mack, shooting the soldier down. But as he kicked the horse to run on, the muscled sorrel half-reared with a scream. Then slowly, Mack tumbled backward on his haunches, and as he flopped to his side, Rance leapt free.

Sighting a kneeling soldier, tearing open paper cartridge for his Enfield, Rance strode toward him, shooting as he walked, blood spurting from the soldier’s bare chest as the bullets ripped craters in his flesh.

In the center of the battle, Jackson, Grandville, and Nathaniel were struggling to survive. They were surrounded, and a vibrating whack, accompanied by wetness down his leg, caused Grandville to look down. Only to see his canteen was spewing water, a bullet nailed him high in the chest.

To his right, Jackson saw Grandville plummet headfirst from his horse, even as Nathaniel cried out, grasping his side. Across the distance, Nathaniel’s freckled face turned to Jackson, calling, "Doc." But, when he did, blood welled up, pouring from Nathaniel’s mouth and on down his neck. Both dead, Jackson stared for a heartbeat in disbelief, then whipped Nero viciously, forcing the horse to run down the men firing on them.

Holstering his reloaded Colt, Lafayette checked O'Rourke's Smith and Wesson he had retrieved from the ground, and limping along the side of the tent; he whistled for Jericho. Hoping the horse was just out of sight beyond the tent, instead of Jericho, it was two soldiers grappling with ropes of a tarp covering a smaller caisson.

On sighting Lafayette, they yelped, reaching too late for their sidearm's.

At such close range, Lafayette simply had to point the revolver to dispatch each. They had uncovered an iron-rimmed wheel revealing beyond it a glinting, golden brass. His curiosity raised, Lafayette drug his wounded leg, limping closer as he swapped the Smith and Wesson for the blade in his boot.

The long thin knife sliced the remaining ropes, the canvas slipping to the ground, and Lafayette's eyes widened, " _doux Jésus_!" Having heard of these killing machines but not seen one, he stepped closer, his mouth twisting to the side. Underneath the weapon were boxes of magazines, and his fingers itched to ram one in the hopper, to crank the handle and see the result.

Sighting along the weapon's barrel, its angle of trajectory brought forth a frown. 'Too risky might get as many Rangers and Bushwhackers as I would Federalist.' Mentally he shrugged, saying, "well, cannot let ‘em use it, either."

Squatting, with his weight on his left leg, Lafayette laid out his remaining revolvers, replacing their cylinders. As he took a pair of spanking new Colts from the dead soldiers, it came to him how oddly peaceful it was where he squatted. Tucking the weapons where he could, Lafayette stood and smiled at the Federal Officer, gesturing to the Gatling Gun he was braced against.

A pack of Federal Militia soldiers was racing his way.

Pulling the Smith and Wesson, he laid the barrel across the rim of a caisson wheel, sighted, and eased the trigger.

The leader of the running men flipped backward.

Lafayette grinned, taking another shot, and missed. " _Chiant_!" Bullets zinged and sparked from the metal wheel; he was barricaded behind. His next shot caused a soldier to wobble like a new foal, and, within a few steps, he fell flat. Firing two more rounds that did no good, Lafayette's last caught a man in the shoulder, spinning him about. Dropping the revolver, he pulled a Colt, and a bullet struck him in the chest, slamming him back against the barrel of the Gatling with a gong-like sound.

As he slid to the ground, a cheer rose from the approaching soldiers.

With what seemed agonizing slowness, Lafayette got his uninjured leg under him, and using the spokes of the wheel, forced himself back up. Jamming himself tighter between the caisson wheel and Gatling gun, he fired as quick as he could lever the hammer.

More bullets burrowed into his flesh, and Lafayette realized he was panting for air, unable to swallow. He gagged, coughed more, and frothy blood spilled from his mouth. He stumbled, dropping the empty revolver; he gripped the wheel, thinking. 'They are damn-well goin' to get _moi_ afore I get 'em.' With a grunt, he let go of the wheel spoke, pulling another revolver. As he began firing, ‘but maybe I can get a few more first.’

The Officer was frenetically directing more soldiers to the Gatlin Gun.

Seeing this, Lafayette chuckled, more foam dripping from his mouth. “Appears I got ‘em worried at least."

Then a bullet struck high on his shoulder; Lafayette staggered, flopping forward hanging against the wheel, another clipping his arm. All became far away, sound drifting from him, and he saw a flash of silvery gray. There was something pushed up against his back, aiding him in staying on his feet. He lay his cheek against the cold metal wheel rim, exhaling, he thought, 'so this is it...so much pain…'

“LAFE, you stay with _moi!”_

Turning his face, Lafayette stared in wonder at his brother, cursing and firing double-handed, mowing down soldiers as deftly as the Gatlin gun would have.

Thaddeus shouted, “you are not allowed to die; you STAY with _moi!”_ He jerked two revolvers from Lafayette’s waistband, firing again. As he did, Marty, Buster, Reed, and Teague came in from the side, running straight over the next assemblage of approaching soldiers, knocking them aside as if they were no more than empty barrels.

Crowe Rangers came from the battlefield, creating a cordon circle about Lafayette and the Gatlin, shooting with deadly aim any who dared approach.

Surrounded by the protective closeness of his men, Lafayette’s mind drifted in a red haze. He partially smiled, thinking 'leastways, I will not be alone when I die.'

All over the battlefield, the Federalist camp was falling apart, their troops were decimated, and soldiers had begun fleeing. Sometimes two at a time, on any horse they could catch. Quantrill's action was a victory; the enemy routed with their officers shouting retreat.

Lafayette gave out, his hands slipping across the spokes of the caisson wheel as he fell.

"Lafe?!"

He opened his eyes; Thaddeus was over him. All he could see was unending fear in his younger brother’s eyes.

“It is all right, Taddy.” Lafayette forced his eyes to remain open and fumbling; he touched his brother’s face.

Placing two fingers to his lower lip, Thaddeus released blast after blast of his shrill, high-pitched whistle. Shoving Teague, who was staring, he barked. "Gather the horses! Find Jackson!"

Running out, Teague began catching the Crowe stable line as they came running with their reins whipping wild the air, to Thaddeus' call. Soon, Teague held Jericho, Cain, Maia, Stoirm, and two more he did not know.

" _Gran Frère_ , we have Jericho. I am goin’ to get you on ‘em and move you out of here."

Lafayette shook his head, coughed, more pink foaming spitting from his lips. "I cannot ride."

"I will hold you."

Blankly, Lafayette nodded, knowing it was what Thaddeus wanted out of him. Yet when Thaddeus moved to stand, Lafayette held to his arm. “ _Je t'ai toujours aimé, m’frère. Au revoir **[1]**."_

Leaning in close, Thaddeus shouted, “Non!”

There were other words, but sounds and light were drifting from Lafayette. He tried to smile at Thaddeus but found he could not.

[1] I have always loved you, my brother. Goodbye


	52. Chapter FIFTY

Chapter Fifty

William Clark Quantrill gloated to all who would listen regarding his 'Action.' How he believed presenting the captured artillery pieces to the Confederacy would make him a heroic legend, at last, earning him his deserved rank of Colonel.

In all, it had taken less than an hour to attain his victory. Yet it had taken twice as long for his men to pick apart the battlefield, collecting spoils of War. However, as this happened there, retrieval occurring, one which Quantrill seemed oblivious. It was the gathering of wounded Missourians and their companions who would never again feel the sun on their faces.

They had left the field together. As the sun crawled its path, groups broke off to follow their own trails. Stopping in a line of shade, the Crowes watched the hard-won caissons and wagons of loot rumble by with Quantrill joyously chatting with those nearest him.

Climbing down from Artorius, Brody approached one of the supply wagons Thaddeus had commandeered. Ducking under the shade flap, they had improvised across the wagon using Enfields for tent braces; he asked, "He moved any?"

Lee Ball shook his head. "Last I heard even a sound from ‘em was when climbed that rocky spot; it really jostled the hell out of both of'n us."

Brody leaned in closer. "Lafayette? _Frère_?"

From where he sat, braced against the wagon's rear wall, Lee carefully laid his fingertips to Lafayette's neck. After a drawn-out moment that felt like an hour, he said. "He is still here."

Brody solemnly nodded, his eyes scanning the soaked bandages that were seeping blood across the wagon bed, and cleared his throat. “All that his?”

"Some is mine," Lee rubbed of his upper thigh. "Not as much as I would like, though.” He frowned at their Captain, paler than a white horse on a moonlit night. “Still, Brody, I think I am done fightin’ in this War. It ain’t a bet I wanna make. But if’n I did odds are, I would win, ‘cause I am positive Doc will be cuttin’ my leg off at the knee."

"Best not to think that way, Lee."

Lee grinned hugely, "how ya want me to think? I will be dancing a jig next week?"

Opening his saddlebag, Brody withdrew a bottle of whiskey. "Here…try not to think on it at all."

Pulling the cork, Lee guzzled a long rush of the amber liquid. "Tad got any notion where he is takin' us?"

"Not rightly yet. He knows we all need to find a spot to hole up." Brody climbed back on Artorius, his eyes going to the double line of horses tied behind the second wagon, containing their friends. "Q’s said he would turn South at the river. If we part from ‘em there, perhaps the Feds will follow the bigger party, leavin’ us alone."

Lee took another drink, offering the bottle to Zebidiah, who was driving.

“You know I do not drink." Zebidiah shook his head.

"Always figure it is polite to offer."

"Then thank you, Lee." Zebidiah flicked the lead reins, starting the team back up.

“Let me know if’n there is any change.” Brody looked forlornly at Lafayette. “I promised Gabe I would watch out over ‘em.” Hipping Artorius up, Brody weaved his way up to ride alongside Cain.

Thaddeus’ face was tight with strain; he looked blankly from Brody then back at the Rangers, his shoulders slumping.

Brody said, "how you doin’, Tad?"

Thaddeus’ weary eyes drifted to Brody. "You want to lead us?"

"Nope, I am here to back you up. You already showed you can do damn fine leadin'."

Thaddeus' brows bunched, "Lafe is supposed to lead."

"I know, but for now, you keep tight of the reins."

Thaddeus, slowly, turned in is saddle eyeing the front wagon. “ _Qu’elle,_ if’n I lose’em?”

"How about we not consider that."

Thaddeus nodded solemnly, thinking, 'Jackson needs a place to work, and we need to bury the seven we lost. But where?'

As Quantrill’s group rode by, a lady dressed in a sage calico dress and bonnet startled them by stepping from the deep shade of some Elm trees, saying, "excuse me."

"Why good afternoon, Ma'am," John Jarrette responded cordially, whoaing his horse.

"Curious if'n any Youngers were part of the engagement?"

John smiled but shook his head. “Well, way of it is Ma'am, it ain’t our custom to say who is where, as it is known to bring harm to our..." He gestured to the other riders, "…families."

"But the Youngers are my family. Which is why I am askin'."

"Oh!" John tugged of his droopy mustache. "Your family…." He looked behind him.

"We are cousins." She craned her neck, trying to see across the blood-spattered, trail dirty men to where he might be looking. "Is Cole here? Or Jim?"

"Ma'am, you go on and wait here," John replied, turning his little compact bay against the flow of riders. Passing Rance, whose arm was in a sling, he asked, "McGreen, you seen Cole, lately?"

McGreen turned his head, pointing with his chin. “He and Jim are ridin' all the way at the back with Anderson and his boys."

"Thanks." John veered to the outside edge, urging his horse into a gallop. Before he reached Bill Anderson’s bunch, he could see Coleman Younger, which was not hard to do considering Coleman's height and broad shoulders. "Hey, Cole. Cole, there is a lady up front askin' for ya?"

Coleman's face split into an enormous smile, and he jabbed a thumb at his chest. "For me?!"

"Says she is family."

The smile dropped, "family?" Still, Coleman and Jim moved to the side of the road, kicking their horses into a gallop to follow John.

“She is on a lane up there,” John called, pulling over to ride with some of his pals. “Under a pair of leaning Elms.”

Right where John described was a young fair-faced lady, clasping and unclasping her hands as she paced back and forth across the lane.

Hopping to the ground, Coleman swept her up in a swinging hug. "Why, Lil’ Celia!"

"You are all right?" She asserted as he set her down, “and Jim,” she called, reaching for her other cousin, pulling him into the hug. "I have been so worried 'bout y'all."

"We are just fine, Celia-girl," Coleman responded, picking her up once more and spinning her about. "What you doin' here, Girl?"

"This lane breaks off from the back pasture of Malissa's place—"

Coleman interrupted, “Malissa’s place? Well, Owl Pellets, did not even realize we all was that close.”

“Well, you were, and that battle sounded ever so closer this morning. It unnerved Sis and me. Then we got to fretting 'bout y'all, and then I got worryin' on…"

"You ain’t still thinking on him."

She shrugged with a half-smile. “Cannot seem to stop myself." Peeking beyond her cousins at the riders flowing by, Celia asked. "Were the Crowe Rangers in the conflict?"

Jim shook his head, "we make it a custom not to say---"

"I already been given that line by that sad-eyed blonde who fetched y'all."

Jim said, "then, you understand."

She shook her head, "not really, he fetched y’all."

Jim pointed to his elder brother, “that is because we all are family, and they figure you would not turn family in for merit points or a reward.”

“Now, you are being downright silly.” Celia’s eyes lit with fire, “like you could even start to believe I would turn in any Southern boy at all. Really, Jim, that is just plain insultin’.”

Trying to change the subject, Coleman brashly said. "Hey!” Tapping Celia on the shoulder, “Jimmy Gamble said I was to pass along his hello when I saw you next."

"That was considerate of 'em."

"That is ‘cause Gamble is a considerate and thoughtful man. One might even say he would make a fine catch."

Rolling her eyes, Celia punched Coleman in the arm. "I am not, in the least bit, interested in Jimmy Gamble. And you can even politely; I do mean politely, tell ‘em that."

"Well, ain’t nothing wrong with Jimmy,” Coleman retorted, “Sides Crowe, ain't asked 'bout you."

Frowning, she kicked a stone in the road sending it rolling. “Is that cause he has himself a girl?”

“Not that he has told me recently.”

Then with a coy grin, Celia peered over at Coleman. "If’n you can say that it means you have sat and spoken…. recently.” She walked out closer to the road, studying the riders coming along, “I bet they are here."

Taking hold of her arm, Jim pulled her back, "makin' me agitated bein’ that close, hate to have to kill some lunkhead for ridin’ over you."

"I am smart enough to move out of the way, Jim Younger." Pushing her bonnet from her face, so it dangled down her back, Celia smoothed stray russet curls from her face. "I want to talk to 'em."

Coleman exclaimed, "To who?"

“Do not play the fool. It does not become you.” Celia responded, glowering up at her taller cousin. "You know who, and now is good as any other time."

"But he ain't' asked 'bout you."

"You done said that already, Thomas Coleman." The corner of her mouth dipped in. "I need to see 'em. Talk to 'em; maybe then I can move on."

"That does sound sensible."

"Hush up, Jim, do not be encouragin' ‘er."

"I do not need encouragin’; I can think on my own." Celia squinted at the passing riders, placing a hand above her eyes to shield them from the sun. "Where is he?"

"You serious?"

She released a soft groan, "course, I am serious." With her hands balled in fists, atop her hips, Celia turned on her heel to her cousins. "One of y'all go fetch 'em, or I will wade out there and do it myself."

Looking entirely put upon, Coleman grabbed his reins in his left hand, hopping up on his horse. "Fine, I will do what Mistress wants."

Smiling sweetly, Celia sarcastically replied. “Ain’t that right kind of you."

"But, neither of you…" Coleman's soft, droopy eyes shifted between his cousin and his younger brother. 'Will tell Ma I did this. You rightly know, she ain't been too pleased with the way he left you sulky and uninterested in _any_ suitors."

The pair nodded in unison, and Coleman rode out of the tree-covered lane.

Not too far down, he spotted Thaddeus' dapple gray. As he made for him, he looked for Lafayette riding his big red, then saw it tied with the double line of horses hitched to the wagon's tailgate. The thrill he was feeling over the prospect of teasing Lafayette fell from him, and coming up to Thaddeus; he soberly asked, "where is your brother?"

Thaddeus' face pinched, and he looked back over his shoulder.

Coleman’s nostrils flared, “He ain’t in the wagon?”

In a flat tone, Thaddeus responded, “he is. Why?"

"Had someone wishin’ to converse with ’em."

“I am not sure if'n anyone is ever goin' to fuckin' converse with ‘em again.” Thaddeus answered, “So, ride on fuckin’ back and inform ‘em if’n they need anything they can fucking talk to _moi_."

Under his breath, Brody said, "Taddy," trying to console or at least tamp Thaddeus' simmering temper.

"Do not be fuckin' Taddying _moi_." Thaddeus' eyes narrowed, "I ain't in the mood to be fuckin' coddled. I saw as well as you, how Jackson reacted to Lafe's injuries."

As they talked, they rode closer to the lane where Celia and Jim waited. Despite their cousin holding out for Lafayette, which Coleman often thought were girlish notions and not honestly Lafayette’s fault at all, he still liked the Crowes. Besides, when it all came down to the line, they were his neighbors. "You already know a hidin' spot for y'all, already?"

Thaddeus shook his head, "figured I would try to find a hollow to disappear into."

Cole nodded, "see that opening in the trees there." He pointed to where the two bent Elms drooped low across a rutted grass lane.

"Yeah."

"Signal your group in there; I know a place not too far, y'all can use to regroup."

Thaddeus' face lightened, some of the load he was carrying lifting. " _Merci beaucoup_ , Cole, _vraiment_."

As they turned in, Jim moved his dark bay out of the way.

Celia breathed deep, trying to contain all the emotions boiling up in her. “You think this is a good idea, Jim?"

"Not sure."

Coleman rode up to his family and, stepping from his saddle, beckoned Thaddeus over.

Before doing so, Thaddeus told Quinton. "Cole’s goin' show us spot to lay up. You make sure not one is left behind."

"Will do." Quinton spun his buckskin, heading for the main road.

Feeling worn down by the weary weight of leadership, Thaddeus exhaled heavily, dismounting.

Setting his hast on the back of his head, Thaddeus forced forth a smile for the lady standing with Coleman and Jim. " _Bonjour, Mademoiselle."_

Her head tilted to the side, the sunlight setting her russet hair afire, and stepping closer, her eyes roved over every detail of his face. Suddenly, she smiled. It was a smile that made a person happy it was pointed at them, and extending her hand to him, she brightly said, "you cannot be anyone other than Taddy Crowe."

Thaddeus briskly replied, "I am." His thoughts on his brother, his eyes shifted to Coleman, "you said you knew a place."

Coleman pointed back to his cousin.

Thaddeus' eyes returned to the petite lady with freckles dashed across her nose and cheek. Her mouth was currently pulled to the side, and raising an eyebrow sharply, she again extended her hand. “I believe…it is good to meet you, names Celia."

Involuntarily Thaddeus fell back a step, shooting a look to the front wagon, gulping, "Celia Ann Sheldon?!"

Her eyes bolted wide, "you know who I am?!?"

Thaddeus swiped his hat all the way off, "I do, _Mademoiselle. Mon frère_ has spoken often with _moi_ of you."

"He has?" Grinning to beat the band, she threw a blatant ' _I told you so'_ to her cousins, and standing on tiptoes, she searched the line of men gathering along the narrow lane. "Then, where is Lafe?"

Sorrow flooded Thaddeus’ face.

"Where is _he_?!" Celia demanded, her heart clenching tight.

"Over here, _Mlle_. Celia." Thaddeus said, leaving Cain ground tied; he escorted her toward the wagon Jackson had climbed in.

"Tad, I _vraiment_ need somewhere to do surgery."

Gathering her skirts, Celia ran to the wagon, all the color draining from her when she peered over the tall sidewall. Her mind whirled. ‘No…’ she thought, ‘no, this cannot be, it cannot.’ Her legs set to trembling, and for a moment, she stared in absolute horror. Then inhaling fast and hard, she thumped Zebidiah on the leg. “Scootch over.”

As he did, she hauled herself up beside him on the wagon seat. “You heard Jackson, get this wagon movin’.” Pointing up the lane, she ordered, “that-a-way, if’n you hustle these mules some; we will be there in no time at all.”


	53. Chapter FIFTY-ONE

Chapter Fifty-One

**Monday Wednesday 8 th of July 1863**

Once Jackson had completed all he could do surgically, they had made Lafayette comfortable in Celia’s bed, and since then, he had not been left alone.

On the blanket pallet in the corner of the room, Celia tossed and turned. Puffing her cheeks, she blew out the air, thinking, ‘damn, but it is stifling hot.’ Rising and opening the backdoor, she lit the lamp, taking it to the bedside table. Propping her bare feet on the bed, she leaned back in the chair, alternating between stitching designs on Lafayette’s war tunic and watching him.

Cleaning up after the surgery, she had thrown out Lafayette’s war tunic, decimated to rags with bullet holes, blood, and Jackson cutting it from his body. Later, she had learned Lafayette had been proud of the tunic made by their friend Mags. Knowing he would need another; Celia had begun designing this one to occupy her hands during the long hours of waiting. Then as she stitched the designs, just as so many mothers and sweethearts did for their men, Celia found herself layering it with prayers of protection.

As she bent over the tunic, sweat trickled down her face, stinging the corners of her eyes. Frustrated, she wiped a hand across her brow, peeking to Lafayette lying so pale and still. Returning to her stitching along the square, low cut neck, she thought. ‘Only a bit more, and I will have this varying chain of shamrocks and _fleur-de-lis_ done.’

It had been Thaddeus who told her the name of the unusual design she had copied from Lafayette’s saddlebag. Grinning, she recalled him saying. ‘If’n you keep a sharp eye, you will find ’em on most of Lafe’s belongings.’ When she asked him why, he chuckled, saying, ‘They are France’s brand, and after visitin’ the _Vieux_ Carré when we were kids, Lafe adopted them as his brand.’

Tying the final knot, Celia held up the acorn colored shirt, admiring her handiwork. The chain about the neck looked perfect with the oversized pockets that she had covered with intricate Gaelic knotwork, each containing one of his four initials, although a person had to know what they were looking for to see the letters. 

Lowering the shirt, she appraised the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept. ‘He is wheezing less. Perhaps, the hole in his lung is closin’ as Jackson hopes.’ Leaning her head against the wall, she stared aimlessly at the rafters of the cabin’s ceiling, thinking, ‘Not just Jackson but all of’n us.’ She sighed, feeling her weariness. ‘I do not believe I have slept more than a few hours since your arrival. I cannot get the image of you….’ Her eyes drifted to the solid, scrubbed dining table, sitting off-center in the room. ‘I waited so long and then to see you there like that…blood bubbling from your chest, blood just everywhere. I swear in this heat, I can still smell your blood…the scent just hangs in the room.’ Tears burned her eyes and using the backs of her hands; she shoved them away.

Rising from the chair, she sat on the edge of the bed. Plucking the thin, cotton towel from the basin, she began speaking low and bathing his face. “There is so much I want to ask you. To tell you…like these years I have had other suitors come ‘round, they were nice enough.” Sighing, she dipped the towel in the water. Wringing it out, she ran it along his neck and chest. “But they did not create a flame in me, as you did, not even the merest flicker. I playfully sent them all along their way. It annoyed Pap something terrible. Got so we could not be in the same room without him chewin’ on me, and I got to sassin’ ‘em. Lafe, I just could not listen to his harsh words any longer without sayin’ how I felt. So, he sent me here to reside with Malissa. I told you of her…my elder sister.”

Freshening the towel, she smiled sadly at Lafayette. “Any way she also lectured me, really she out and out harangued me. Startin’ with my childish nonsense of turnin’ suitable suitors away. Then how you and I were so far apart not only within society but also by miles. Then I heard you were back, headin’ your own Ranger unit.”

Returning the towel to the white enamel basin, Celia stroked her fingers along the curve of Lafayette’s face. “Once I learned you truly, or as you would say, _vraiment_ were again in Missouri…” She sighed, “you became all I could think about. Which has just driven all my Younger cousins mad ‘cause they know you. Known you and your family far longer than I have, and all Cole and Jim would ever say when I questioned ‘em of you, was…he ain’t asked ‘bout you.” 

Putting her hands in her lap, she picked at her thumbnail. “Why did you not ask ‘bout me? You fully know Coleman and Jim are my cousins, knew I lived with them. So, why?”

“‘Cause he did not believe he was worthy of you.”

Celia whipped about to find Thaddeus’ standing in the open back door.

“He is not awake, is he?”

She shook her head.

Coming in, Thaddeus halted at the foot of the bed, and hitching his thumbs in his holster belt, stared at his brother. “Doc says all we can do is wait and pray, but I ain’t _jamais_ been _bonne_ at prayin’.” He smiled tightly, “been tryin’ it out, though.”

“You want to sit by him?”

Stepping about the bed, Thaddeus answered, “I am fine here,” dropping in the chair she had vacated. “Ain’t been a day I can recall I ain’t looked up to Lafe.” There was a twitch below Thaddeus’ right eye, “I do not know _qu’elle_ …how…” His mouth puckered tight.

Celia held her hand out to him, and he took it. “Do not think that way.”

“I am tryin’ damn, _excusez-moi_ , hard not to. Mams _toujours_ said _mal_ thoughts brought ‘bout _mal_ measures. But look at ‘em, it has been days and…” Thaddeus’ voice broke.

Forcing down the tightness in her throat, Celia said, “I know, I know.”

“These past days sittin’ with ‘em,” Thaddeus looked from Lafayette to Celia, “I feel I have _vraiment_ gotten to know you.”

She stayed quiet, allowing him to collect himself. Yet, while he did, she studied Thaddeus from the corner of her eye, thinking, ‘He looks so young since he shaved off his beard. Young and frightened. Only way I have seen ‘em is frightened, and I know that is not who he is.’

“He will lash _moi_ later for this…” Inhaling hard, Thaddeus started again, “yep, he will, and he is more than welcome to do so.” Squeezing Celia’s hand, Thaddeus pushed forth a small smile, “see, when Lafe returned to Missouri, he did so against our father’s orders. He did it ‘cause of you.”

Celia’s brows arched questioningly.

Thaddeus nodded. Releasing her hand, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Lafe and I determined that once Father was done rakin ‘em over the coals for disobeyin’, we would ride to the Youngers, find out where you were.”

“Really?”

Thaddeus looked down at the floor, his mouth flexing, “but then, well…then…”

“Taddy, I know what happened to your family. I already know.”

He sniffed hard, “anyway, as they say, it all went to hell in a handbasket damn fast. As time went on, Lafe decided _qu’elle_ he had done and leadin’ all of’n us made him unworthy of you, like he was tainted, evil, or some _connerie_. Tried to talk ‘em out of that notion, tried to get ‘em to speak to Cole. _Jésus a pleuré,_ he can be so hard-headed.” He grinned, “you sure you are interested in this mule?”

“I am.” She nodded empathetically, “I am.”

“Then do not let ‘em wriggle out of here without actually openin’ up.”

Celia looked sharply to Lafayette, thinking, ‘why would he do such a thing?’

Thaddeus smiled, “you are pretty easy to read, Celia.” He shook his head, “he would do it, ‘cause like I keep sayin’, he does not feel he is worthy of you. Feels you could do better.”

“That is just preposterous.”

“ _Bonne!_ You keep that in your mind when he starts any talk that sounds like he is tryin’ to free you of ‘em.”

Looking once more at Lafayette, she frowned a bit.

“Not only is he a mule, but he is a complicated _une_ at that.” Thaddeus leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Way you have handled all this these past days, I deem you can handle him, might even be able to teach ‘em to drive.” He winked at her. “Lafe believes he _amours_ you, says he has this ache, he deems only you can make go away.” His eyes slid to his brother, “be madder than a tree’d cougar, he knew I was sayin’ all this. But I am doin’ it for ‘em.”

They sat for a time in silence, then Celia reached out, patting Thaddeus on the knee. “You have given me a lot to consider, and I thank you.”

Peeking at her through his dark lashes, he softly answered, “just do not hurt ‘em; he does that to himself enough already.”

“I will not, Taddy, I promise.”

Standing, Thaddeus chipped tooth crooked grin sprang to life. “I deem you are goin’ to make a fine _sœur._ ”

Celia’s brows bunched a bit as she tilted her head.

“Sister.”

“Oh, I did hear him use that, now that you say it.” Then it struck her, what Thaddeus had just said. “You think he will ask me to marry him?”

“If’n you do not let ‘em play any of his games.” He smiled, flashing his single dimple. “I know it is _qu’elle_ he wants.”

She looked from Thaddeus to Lafayette and back again, “oh my goodness, Taddy.”

Thaddeus forcefully drug his lower lip through his teeth, “might ‘en not let on to ‘em I told you that _une._ ”

Leaning in, he laid his palm to Lafayette’s chest, _“Si vous pouvez m'entendre, frère, réveillez-vous bientôt. Alors cette fille peut cesser de s'inquiéter pour toi. Et cela vaut aussi pour moi._ _Je t'aime. **[1]**” _Passing Celia a grin but not translating his private words, Thaddeus said. “Kinda feel the need to be on _m’_ own.” Thaddeus heaved out a breath, “think I will do some huntin’.”

“I will make sure he is not alone.”

“That I do not doubt,” Thaddeus responded, and moving past the end of the bed, he tipped his head to Malissa, who was standing in the doorway to the newer portion of the house. “ _Bonjour, Madame_.”

Turning, Celia saw he was speaking to her elder sister, “Oh, hello, Lissa.”

By the time Malissa had taken a seat, Thaddeus had rushed from the room.

“Sorry, we woke you, Sis.”

“It is fine,” Malissa replied, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug. “And, you should know I overheard part of y’alls talk.”

Celia’s nostrils flared, her eyes widening.

“I did not mean to. I was at the door, and y’all did not hear me, then I thought if I went back, you would hear me.” She did a quick shrug with a quicker frown. “What Tad was sayin’ sounded like it needed to be said without disruptions.”

“So how much did you hear?” Celia asked, taking Lafayette’s hand in hers.

“From right about where he said, Lafe feels he is not worthy of you.”

“That is quite a bit.”

Malissa waved a hand at the backdoor; Thaddeus had exited through. “What was I to do, interrupt him?”

“Well, no, but” Celia stared disappointedly at her sister. “Thought you always said eavesdroppin’ is poor manners.”

“Then, I need to work on my manners.” Malissa’s blue eyes went to Lafayette. “He is uncommonly attractive; both the Crowes are. I thought that right away when I saw them, and I also saw then how Lafayette had so turned your head.”

Bitingly, Celia replied, “how many times do I have to tell you it was more than that?!” She stopped abruptly, looking to Lafayette. “Lissa, it was like meetin’ your best friend and fallin’ in love with them all at the same time.” A glow came to her that softened everything about Celia. “Yes, he is handsome. But it is so much, so much more than that.”

“I hope so because from what I heard; he loves you.” Malissa rolled her eyes “or thinks he does. What if when you start talkin’ with him, you find you do not feel all the ways you have proclaimed to me.”

Firmly, Celia replied, “I will.”

“As I said, I hope so.”

“You do not have to hope because I do, and I will.”

“Do not act like you do, just to prove it to me.”

“Why are you tryin’ to start a fight?”

“Because of all of this,” Malissa waved a hand at her younger sister, gripping tight of Lafayette’s hand.

“Well, you need not worry.”

“I do, though.” Malissa scootched forward on the chair, taking Celia in her arms, hugging her close. “I worry for you.”

Relaxing into the embrace, Celia exhaled heavily, whispering, “thank you.”

Malissa pushed some stray curls from Celia’s face that were stuck in her perspiration. “How ‘bout you freshen up and lay down for a rest in my room, in a real bed.”

“I promised Taddy I would not leave him alone.”

“I will sit with ‘em.” Malissa pulled at Celia, “come on now; you need a break from this room.”

“I suppose, but…”

“Go on, I will not leave ‘em, Charlotte is asleep in my bed, and you can join her.”

At the door to the house, Celia froze, looking back.

“I will call you, and I will not leave him alone.” Malissa passed her a warm smile, “cross my heart.”

Once she left, Malissa remained sitting on the edge of the chair, examining Lafayette. Finally, saying, “you best not die, I do not know what I will do with her, and _your_ brother, if’n, you do.”

[1] If you can hear me, brother, wake the hell up soon. So, this girl can cease worrying so about you. And, that goes for moi, too. I love you.


	54. Chapter FIFTY-TWO

Chapter Fifty-Two

** Saturday 11 ** ** th ** ** of July 1863 **

All was dark, but it came to Lafayette ; h e  could  hear  leaves rustling in the wind and  the  musical trill of tree frogs .  Opening  his eyes,  he  found it was not as dark as he thought .  H is eyes closed heavily ; for a time , he lay listening to the frogs and then opened his eyes again. More came into focus, and he  became aware  he was on his side , and for a while, h e stared at his bare arm  lying on a white sheet.

After blinking a few times, he  saw beyond the bed was a side table and two wood en chair s. ‘Where am I?’  Flashes from the  battle , and  Thaddeus ’  distressed face  came to him. Taking a slow breath, he fe l t  troubling discomfort in his chest. ‘Where is Tad?’ 

After taking another breath,  Lafayette shifted to sit up , and pain ripped through him like chained lightening escaping from  him as a n ag onized groan.

Then hands were on him , and  a  female was telling him, “ No, no, no…lie still .”

“ Tad, ”  the  word sound ed like a  forced croak.

The female called out,  “Lissa ! H e is wakin’ , fetch Taddy.” 

‘Fetch Taddy,’ the words d rifted, tumbling in Lafayette’s  foggy mind , and  wanting to know who said them, he turned his head to see the female behind him.  Again, pain tore through him , unbelievable pain. 

“Shh…lie still, you will ruin all Jackson’s work.”

‘Taddy, Jackson,’ the names fill ed him with hope . 

“Let me get you a drink.”

A bottle  was placed to his mouth, and  his head gently raised —t he water melt ing the dryness from his throat. In great d r aughts , Lafayette swall owed the coolness, marveling at the feeling.  As the water flowed into him,  he thought, ‘I am not dead.’ Then inwardly  scoffed at  himself, for it taking so long to have thought this .

When the bottle was taken away, he was asked, “better?”

“ _ Oui. _ ” He listened to the  soft thunk of the bottle being set down. His last memories were  of the battle and the hot sunshine. S wallowing to clear his throat, he asked, “I s it night?”

“ It is ‘bout an hour after sunset ; let me light mor e than this candle.” Steps away, then a quick stop. “Do not try to move . O kay ? ”

Recalling the intense rush of pain from  earlier , he replied,  “ I will not .”

As  he  lay listening,  Lafayette became more alert , his mind starting to churn,  and he thought,  ‘whose voice is that? I know it.’

Outside he made out  the sound of  running  boots beating a tempo  on the  dirt , and then a door swung open, a swirl of fresh air entering the room. 

“Lafe!” Thaddeus called, running about the end of the bed , to drop beside it on a knee . His green eyes  glinting brightly above  dark smudges of  sleepless night s .

“Hey,  _ petit frère _ _.” _

_ “ _ _ Dieu merci _ _ ,  _ you are awake,” Thaddeus clutched his brother’s hand. “Look , Jackson, he is  _ vraiment  _ awake.”

Jackson stood  directly behind Thaddeus,  every ounce of his happiness in his smile. “You had us plenty worried, Bub.”

Dropping in a chair, Brody propped his elbows on  his  knees, “damn fine, Lafe, damn fine to see you awake.”

A lamp had been lit, its round c ircle of light spreading into the room , able to better see their faces ; Lafayette smiled. “It is  _ bonne  _ to be  here . I deemed I wa s …” He  swallowed his words, hi s eyes going to Thaddeus ,  knowing  he would not  want to hear  that  when  they  last spoke , Lafayette  believed  himself dying . 

Thaddeus squeez ed his brother’s hand and  twisted his head to look up at Jackson. “You said if’n he woke, Doc…” Thaddeus turned back , smiling, “and look.”

Brody barked out a chuffing laugh, “told you both he was t o o loyal to leave us.”

Lafayette canted an eye to Brody, “Loyal? You make  _ moi  _ sound like a  _ chien _ .”

Leaning closer, Brody smiled fully at him, “Ah,  do not be thinkin’ yourself  _ that _ loyal .” He  patted Lafayette’s shoulder , “but you are three times as stubborn as any creature I ever met.  And that  kept me believin’ you would pull through.”

Lafayette’s dark eyes went from one face to the other, “it is  _ bonne  _ to see y’all.”

Jackson took a  big breath, letting it out slow and smooth. 

By doing so, Lafayette knew  precise ly how worried  his friend  had been.  Quietly Lafayette said,  “ _ m _ _ erci beaucoup,  _ Doc.” 

Jackson  shook his head, smiling tight and flat,  “Keep tellin’ you—”

Thaddeus roughly grunted,  “Uh-Huh!” and releasing Lafayette’s hand, he turned  on Jackson. “ _ Non  _ more ‘bout you not being a Doc .  _ Non _ ‘bout you  not finishin’ your schoolin’ or whatever else .” He pointed to Lafayette, “ This is your doin’, DOC.”

Jackson combed his bangs back,  shifting uncomfortably with all the attention on him.  Then with a shrug, he simply and softly said, “all right.” 

Both Brody and Thaddeus nodded.

“How long I been out?”

Brody ’s mouth hitched to the side, “been five days.”

Lafayette’s eyes widened.

Thaddeus  put in , “s ix , if’n ; you count  the day gettin’ you here.”

“Six days?” Lafayette said , inhaling t o o deep and wincing .  Hissing out  the air , he shifted pai n-filled eyes t o Jackson. 

Taking a seat  on the edge of the bed, Jackson laid a hand on  Lafayette’s leg. “ The re was a through and through on your right calf.  Suppose you kn e w ‘bout that since  you  must have  bound  it  yourself.”  R eaching out , he touched Thaddeus where his neck curved into his shoulder, “you caught one here,  and then on down your left side,  in your upper arm, then  your ribs…cracked a few, not sure if’n it was me pulling the  lead or the impact . Another in your thigh, swear you have a target there , Bub . It to ok a bit, but I got  them all cleaned out .”  Jackson frown ed deeply ,  “however, I could not remove the one in your lung .”

Lafayette’s eyes narrowed,  the color fad ing a bit from his face .

“Rest is what you need, Bub.” Jackson  replied firmly , “ you will heal, and  others have lived with lung damage. ”

“ Much lead as you caught, I am just damn  happy  you had your right side squeezed in behind that  caisson wheel,” Brody shook his head. “And when you are better , _ F _ _ rère  _ _ C _ _ adet _ _ … _ ” he winked at Lafayette, “you and I are goin’ have a  discussion ‘bout takin’ on such a big fight all on your lonesome.”

Lafayette grinned a little,  “it was not  _ m’ _ intention.”

Brody shook his head, still smiling, “intention or not.”

“Well, I say we get some bone tea in ‘em and let  ‘em sleep again.”

Once more,  Thaddeus  turned on Jackson . “ _ Zut _ , Doc,  h e just woke.”

“ As I just said, he needs rest, and  what he has risen from was  not sleep, not really Tad.” Jackson gripped Thaddeus ' shoulder, “that was our  _ Frère _ fightin’ for his life. ”

“ Like I said,  stubborn as hell, and  he  won the fight.” Standing, Brody  once more patted Lafayette’s shoulder. “Be in to see you tomorrow.”

Pushing himself up , Jackson declared,  “I am goin’ to get the tea.”

“No need,” came the voice Lafayette felt he knew . “ L ike you , I figured this would be a  perfect  time to get more down ‘em then we have been doin ’ . ”

Jackson turned sideways, saying, “thank you,” revealing Celia Sheldon. 

Lafayette gasped , his eyes lock ing on Celia .  He took a shallow breath, licked his lips, a nd with a tremor, he breathed out , “Celia.”

A sense of strength and a desire to be near him flowed through her, yet she only casually responded,  “Hey, Lafe.” And then smiled .

Right then, all of his pain  vanished, and he thought, ‘ there it is…that  smile  I have  kept tucked in _ m’ _ memories all these years. ’

“Come on,” Thaddeus said,  standing and pushing the other two before him.  “ L et us give ‘em the room.”

Lafayette’s eyes  switched, questioningly to  his brother.

“ Ain’t nothing hidden here, Lafe ; we all have gotten to know Celia real well over the past five days  and…” Thaddeus  shared a private smile with  Celia, “she has been waitin’  near  _ trois  _ years to speak with you.”

As they left , Celia a void ed making eye contact with  Lafayette , even as  she took a seat on the floor by the bed. B ut  through it all , she  could feel his eyes on her and  prayed, ‘ please let all  Tad told me  be true.’  Once comfortable, she  raised her eyes to his,  and with quiet  emphasis , said. “ You came back.”

“I always meant too.”

She  nodded, lifting  a spoonful of broth , feeding it to him. “and  you know what?”

He swallowed, “ _ qu’elle _ _.” _

She fed him  several m ore spoonfuls ,  then  paused,  looking down into the cup . Squaring her shoulders, she sat taller, firmly saying, “ I turn ed down all offers of marriage and such .” 

‘Marriage and such,’  Lafayette thought, squinting, then it came back to h im . ‘She said that same phrase to  _ moi  _ when  I  left her to see to  Joséphine .’  Even now, he recalled  how the  idea of another man near her had hurt . It was , actually, easy to recall,  for , at any point, he considered  her being married ; it had hurt. With quiet humility , he replied,  “you  said  you would wait for  _ moi. _ ”

Peeking up, she  tenaciously replied, “and I did.”

“But I did not fulfill  _ m’ promesse. _ ”

“Are you not here?”

He replied softly, mockingly, “w e both know this is not  _ moi  _ fulfillin’  _ m’ promesse. _ ”

S he nodded and  began repeatedly lifting  the spoon to him , forcing him to take the bone broth.  Until at length, he pulled back, refusing any more. Setting the nearly empty cup on the side table,  Celia  laid her  forearms on the bed,  nestling her chin on them. They were now on the same level,  almost eye to eye.  “You are correct, Lafe ; this is not you fulfillin’ your promise.”

The corner s of Lafayette’s mouth pulled back . 

She moved her hand out,  clasping his .  “ But I forgive you.”

His  eyes  darkened, sharpened, and she thought, ‘is that anger?’ She squeezed his hand, “I forgive you even if’n you do not forgive yourself . B esides, perhaps this  is the Lord s doing . ”

Lafayette’s brows pulled together. 

“ We found each other at the picnic, did we not?”

He nodded the slightest bit. 

“Was I wrong  believing I felt a connection to you , and you felt the same for me?”

His mouth pressed tightly together, thinking, ‘I cannot offer her who I am now.’

Celia leaned closer, her eyes assessing him. “It was this War ,  th e hatred  this War has created  that pulled us apart. Then this War…”  s he sniffed hard, “tried to kill you.  But I found you, found you  dying on  the road , and brought you here. They all thought you would die, they did not want to say it, but I could read  it  in  the face of every single one of your Rangers. But , Lafe, you did not , and now here we are together.” She smiled the smallest bit, “does that not feel like divine intervention to you?”

“I suppose it does. Still—”

She shook her head, “I been warned ‘bout your games.”

His brows furrowed , and she giggled, moving her hand to cup his face. 

“I know you feel you are not worthy , but look into my eyes , Lafe , and tell me  what you see there .”

He felt his chest tighten, the pain sharp en , and he blinked against it. 

“Well? What do you see? ”

H a rdly above a whisper, he answered, “concern and…”  h is eyes  again  scanned her face, “and  _ amour. _ ”

She smiled , and it was not just any smile, but one of joy and love.  “Do you believe me?”

“ _ Oui. _ Still, Celia , you do not want  _ moi. _ ”

“That is for me to decide.”

“I have done terrible things.”

“I understand that . I have also seen  how  much  your men care ‘bout you , which tells me you are not as far gone, as evil, as you feel you are.”

He pulled the corner of his lip between his teeth, looking down. 

“ I know how other men talk of you, and Lafe …”

When she said no more, he slanted his eyes to her .

“I  s ay after three years of waitin’, it is  high time for you to  say  what you  kept  skirtin’ like a cat around hot milk the day of the picnic.”

A tiny smile that made his dimples dip appeared, along with a faint pinkness to his face. 

Laughter wreathed her words as she said,  “Oh, please, tell me you are not blushin’?”

He looked down.  “Afore I met you ; I made known to all that I did not want a  _ fille  _ of  _ m’  _ own. Felt a  _ fille  _ would slow  _ moi  _ down, keep  _ moi  _ from doin’  _ qu’elle  _ I wanted . Then I met you.” He looked up , his eyes shining. “ Forthwith , I discovered all I had been sayin’ was incorrect. It was not that I did not want a  _ fille.  _ It was that I had not found the correct  _ fille. _

Later I told  _ mon _ self  y ou had seen  _ m’  _ rage and how  _ mal  _ I can be, figured you  were too smart to w ant  anything to do with  _ moi.  _ Still, that did not matter…” 

Stroking his cheek, she nodded, “go on.”

“I could not , an d I tried, but I could not get you from my mind ,  _ non  _ deep er than that, from  _ m’  _ soul. I once told Tad, you  are like  a  brilliant leaf that swirl s inside  _ moi,  _ rising to the surface , and when you  do , I ache…ache to see you, to be near you. ”

Her hand slipped back into his hair. “ Then, w hy did you not ask Cole or any of the Younger s ‘bout me? ”

“ ‘Cause of all I have done, that…and , well,  I could not bear hearin’ if’n you belonged to another.” He looked down, “or that you wanted not to hear from  _ moi. _ ” 

“What I been told is correct ; you are  a  complicated , stubborn mule.”

Lafayette snorted lightly , thinki ng, ‘Tad and I are goin’ to have a long , interestin’ damn  discussion.’

Rising on her knees, she leaned closer until they were nose to nose,  “ but if’n you are,  I  am more than  willin’ to  see if ’n we  belong …. together .” 

At her words, Lafayette smiled fully, his dimples dancing and his dark eyes  shifting to a mellow golden brown , “you mean that?”

Ev er so tenderly , Celia  placed her lips to his, enjoying the fe e l of him,  tasting the salty bone tea, and then she pulled back.  “ Now, g et some rest. I am not goin’ nowhere.” She giggled, touching her nose to  his, “and neither are you.”


	55. Chapter FIFTY-THREE

Chapter Fifty-Three

**Sunday 12 th of July 1863**

In the night, Lafayette had managed to roll onto his back, and when he woke, it was to sunlight flooding in through an open door. Remaining still, he took in the small log cabin with its broad stone fireplace.

Between him and the fireplace was a closed-door painted white. Beyond it, he could make out the voices of children. He frowned slightly, thinking, 'I feel like Celia told _moi_ she had a _neveu_ when we were gettin' to know each other at the picnic.'

Cautiously he turned his head. Sitting in one of the wooden chairs with his bare feet braced in the other was his brother reading. For a time, Lafayette considered him, 'Tad looks damn tired and much older than his years.'

Thaddeus turned a page, and as he did, his eyes shifted to his brother. Seeing Lafayette was awake, he pulled his feet down, laying the book in the vacated chair.

" _Matin_." Lafayette grinned affectionately at him. " _Qu'elle_ you readin'?"

Thaddeus glanced at the book, " _une_ of your Shakespeares."

" _Qu'elle_ story?"

"I am tryin' to make out the Tempest."

" _How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world that has such people in it_."

"Like I said, I am tryin'."

"It wants you to reflect, if'n after all the betrayals and defeating of enemies. If'n with _amour_ and _pardons_ , the next generation might not suffer the same errors and sins."

Thaddeus' eyes again shifted to the book, "kind of sounds like where we are in our lives."

"That it does. Will you pass _moi_ the water bottle?"

Having done so, Thaddeus watched close to see if his brother would need aid. When done, he returned the bottle to the side table. "Anything else?"

Taking a slow, deep breath, Lafayette let it out even slower, his face pinching. "I would like you to inform _moi_ 'bout the battle."

Cold little quivers spread through the muscles of Thaddeus' shoulders. Slanting an eye to his brother, he propped his elbows on his knees and, dropping his head, stared at the floor. "Q's claims his Action a triumph. I reckon he is right, 'cause we did chase those fuckin' blue bellies from their campsite. Most of the caissons were haulin' ammunition. Although there were three ten-pounder cannons and that Gatlin gun...." He peeked at his brother, "that you took possession of and Q is presenting all of 'em to the Confederacy, as he declared, to assist the Cause."

Thaddeus shifted, and the chair squeaked under him. "Took us, forever to collect ourselves and move out. The fuckin' flies found us. They were thick, driving everyone to distraction, biting both men and horses. Brody, Gid, Fox, and I made sure our Rangers were seen too, not any part of our Unit being left behind. It was a miserable day…hot, broiling hot and those damn flies, but somehow though, fortune was on our side. 'Cause it all happened near enough to the Perry farm, that is where we are, that the racket made the _mesdemoiselles_ curious."

Thaddeus grinned, "Celia determined she would discover if'n her Younger cousins had been involved and that they were unharmed. Brought herself across the back forty to the road, all by herself." A corner of Thaddeus' mouth drew up, his eyebrow arching. "I tell you, Lafe, when she introduced herself to _moi,_ I 'bout fell down like I had been poleaxed." Gesturing to the house beyond the door, Thaddeus said. "That is quite the _fille_ you got there. When she found you, she did not wilt like some _petite fleur_. Nope, she hopped up on the seat next to Zeb and bossed 'em to get the wagon movin'."

With a sigh, Thaddeus fell silent, his shoulders slumping and an eerie quiet building about him, and when he popped the knuckles of his right hand, it sounded like firecrackers going off.

"Tad?"

"Fuckin' hell, Lafe, until she showed up, I was…." He inhaled deep, "waitin' for you to die. Jackson had done all he could on the road and needed a place for surgery. None of us had any idea where to go, we are so far South not even Fox knew any farms 'bout. And, damnation, but you had blood pumpin' from you like a fuckin' spigot was left open." His face turned to the table near the fireplace. "When Celia brought us here, I do not know how Jackson did all he did…it was just…just…" When his eyes came back to Lafayette, they were glassy, his voice sounding thicker. "With Dora gone. I cannot fuckin' lose you. I cannot."

Tenderly Lafayette said, "I ain't goin anyplace, Taddy."

Thaddeus nodded, dashing the heel of his hand across his face. "It fuckin' petrified _moi_."

Appraising him, Lafayette thought, _'_ I loathe I scared 'em like that.' Wetting his lips, he staunchly said, "Thaddeus, _je t'aime_."

Rubbing his eyes, Thaddeus replied, " _Moi_ also, and did I…" he got a bit red about the ears, "ever apologize back when I had the ague, and I took that fuckin' header in Father's study."

One of Lafayette's eyebrows rose the smallest bit. "Not that I recall."

" _Mon Frère_ , sincerely _très desole_ ; if 'n I twisted you up like I have been this week. _Jésus a pleuré_ , you should have knocked _m'_ fuckin' fool head in for makin' you feel like this."

"Had planned to, when you got to _Louisiane_."

Thaddeus' brows shot up near his hairline.

"Fortunate for you, I was too damn pleased to see you and plumb forgot." A yawn escaped Lafayette.

"I should let you rest."

"Not yet." However, Lafayette closed his eyes while thinking. 'Tad has evaded mentionin' anything regardin' the Rangers. I could ask Brody or Jackson.' His hand clenched of the sheet, not really wanting to know the answers he sought, yet still needing them. Opening his eyes, he looked straight at his brother. 'And it should be Tad to inform _moi_.'

"Then how 'bout some bone tea? Malissa, Celia's sister, made a fresh batch."

Lafayette nodded, although when Thaddeus started to rise, he said. "But not until you tell _moi qu'elle_ you been avoidin'."

Thaddeus scrubbed at the back of his head, trying to organize what he did not want to say. "You were the most injured, accordin' to Doc. But he also patched up Rance's arm, pulled a couple of slugs from Micah and Jon. Jeremiah and Arch had through and throughs, only requirin' cleanin' and stitchin'. But, Doc, with a good deal of help from Brody and Gid, amputated Lee's leg below his knee and Bill's left arm."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Lafayette groaned, "fuckin' hell."

"Out in Malissa's pasture, there is an Oak. Its massive limbs, just a beggin' to be climbed. Under that old tree, we buried Frank, Jake, Grandville, Rose...." As Thaddeus spoke, his voice grew tighter and higher. "....Nate, Common, and Clyde."

"We lost _sept,_ " Lafayette took a shuddering breath. " _Sept_...Nate, Common...Clyde."

Standing and not bothering to wipe the wetness from his face, Thaddeus said, "let _moi_ get you that tea."

Having folded his hands, across his eyes, with his thumbs pressed to his temples, Lafayette nodded.

"You want _moi_ to bring it back or Celia?"

Lafayette swallowed hard, but it did not matter. His tears were still clearly heard when he answered. "You...I want to talk more with you."

On returning, Thaddeus found his brother had drifted back to sleep. He looked at the steaming cup in his hand and set it on the bedside table with a sigh.

Going to the open backdoor, he took a seat, wedging himself in the frame and lighting a quirley, the last from his silver tin. He then set about rolling enough to refill the tin, regularly looking over to his brother.

As he sat there, Quinton came walking up from the barn. Removing a couple of envelopes from inside his vest, he squatted by Thaddeus. "How is he doin'?"

"More himself today."

"Did you tell 'em?" Quinton's eyes strayed to the pasture.

"I did." Thaddeus tucked another quirley in his tin. "You know Quin, saying their _noms_ like that made it all the more damn real."

"I know," Quinton responded, gripping Thaddeus' shoulder, contemplating the room, where Lafayette lay. "When are you thinkin' we should pull out?"

"Soon. Just need to talk a bit more with Lafe."

"Fox and Moses made it back from Lone Jack," Quinton said, handing over the envelopes, "They say it was a damn hellish ride, blue coats everywhere they turned."

Thaddeus turned the envelopes in his hands, recognizing Joséphine's handwriting. But not the other. "Seen anything of Hi, Stephen, Zeb, and Charlie?"

"Hi and Stephen are back. They said Lee's family place was torched. But they found his Ma and sisters at a neighbor. Surmise Zeb and Charlie will be ridin' in soon from escortin' Bill." Pulling a tobacco pouch from his pocket, Quinton put a pinch in his mouth. "I will sit vigil, so you can get some rest."

Thaddeus shook his head.

"Whether you want it or not, you require it. Hell, you look worse than an abused Mick on a rail laying line."

"You understand, _m'_ blood resembles that remark."

Quinton grinned, "must be why it applies so well to you. Now, take a lie down."

Stubbing out his smoke, Thaddeus pulled himself up. He stared toward Lafayette.

Quinton said, "go on, I will be right here."

Trudging to the pallet of blankets, he and Celia had been alternately using on night shifts when they tried to sleep, Thaddeus huffed out a snort of air, laying down and was asleep right after his eyes closed.

"Tad?"

Blearily, Thaddeus opened his eyes and felt the pressure of Quinton's hand on his left forearm. He slurred, "I am up."

"So is your brother."

Nodding, Thaddeus stumbled to his feet.

"He has actually been awake for a bit, and Ms. Celia got some tea in him." Quinton released a sly smile, "and I snuck 'em a couple of shots of rye. So, I would say he is lookin' 'bout as stringy and tough as he typically does. Goin' head back down to the barn."

" _Merci beaucoup,_ Quin."

The tall, swarthy Ranger, winked at Thaddeus, "anytime."

Plopping in the chair next to Lafayette's bed, Thaddeus yawned out, "looks like sleep, did you _bonne_?"

"Seems to be all I am doin'."

Thaddeus smiled with a chuckle.

"Glad to see you got some sleep yourself, _Frère Cadet_."

Thaddeus replied, "I think I needed it 'bout as _mal_ as you."

"I been layin' here thinkin' of Clyde and the others, but more of Clyde." Lafayette's eyes drifted from Thaddeus to the purple shadows filling the room. "Cannot think of a time when I did not know Clyde, keep seein' us at his place or he at ours."

"I have had the same thoughts…I keep recollectin' how Clyde would stir up trouble, most times draggin' us fuckin' along with'em."

Abruptly, Lafayette asked, "how is JT?"

"Hmm, JT…" Thaddeus replied. "Reed and Jimmy told me when Clyde was pulled from Maia, JT rushed to protect 'em. They say he stood over Clyde killin' any who came near, and when he ran out of lead, he used his Bowie knife." Thaddeus slid back in the chair. Raising his feet, he crossed them on the edge of the bed. "I find it fuckin' hard to see JT that way. He has _toujours_ been so friendly to just 'bout everyone. Not that he cannot fight. We both know he can. But they said it was like he had hydrophobia, just frenzied."

Lafayette nodded, "so how is he doin'?"

"Ain't quite been himself." Thaddeus squinted over at his brother, "like he has lost all confidence, or something. Seems more like a _garçon_ than I recall 'em being for some time. He has been helpin' Celia's _neveu_ , Ambrose with his chores and playin' marbles with 'em." Thaddeus ran a hand up through his thick black hair, and it stuck out at odd angles. "Guess _m'_ answer is…I am not really sure how JT is doin'."

"Humph," Lafayette grunted, "And Brody and Gid?"

"Unless Brody is up here checkin' on you, they been keepin' to each other."

"Gabe, Web, Brody, Gid, and Common were like musketeers," Lafayette said matter of factly with a sad smile. "They used to drive Mams to her wit's end, and all that is left is Brody and Gid." Picking up the cup from his side table, Lafayette drank it down. "I fuckin' loathe this war."

Diggin' in his pant pocket, Thaddeus removed his flask. "Remember how everyone thought it would only last a few months." He took a swig, " _qu'elle_ fuckin' _imbéciles_ we were."

Accepting the flask, Lafayette took three long drinks before returning it and when he did, Thaddeus said. "Lafe, I am goin' to take the Rangers from here in a day or so."

Lafayette's eyes riveted on his brother.

"You cannot ride, and it ain't right or safe havin' so many of us here on Malissa's place. We will wind up drawin' the attention of the wrong fuckin' sort."

"I concede your point, do not like it but concede."

"I aim to leave Rance and Arch; they ain't ready to ride."

Lafayette nodded.

"And JT. Like I said, he just ain't himself, and I think being here, at a home, kinda _famille_ like will be _bonne_ for 'em."

"Well, you are in charge."

"Only, for now, Lafe. I do not like leadin'."

"You wear the cloak well."

"I do not fuckin' want it."

"All right. But _qu'elle_ is your plan when y'all leave?"

"Same as we have done… aid our neighbors, and most definitely hunt O'Rourke."

"Oh, Hell! I ain't told you."

"Told _moi, qu'elle_?"

"I met up with that _fils de pute_ on the battlefield." Lafayette felt the split in his lip that was almost healed. "I jumped 'em, and after a few go' rounds, I put 'em down. Our list is complete."

Thaddeus' Adam's apple bobbed, his green eyes searching his brother, then with a soft sound, he tilted his head back against the wall. For a bit, he sat silent and then grunted, saying. "We got 'em all….all of 'em…yet…." With a shake of his head, he stopped talking.

"And so, we are revenged. Villains killed our family, and for that, we, our father's sons, have done the same."

"The Tempest again?"

" _Non_ , Hamlet…well, somewhat. I reconstructed the line, _une_ night after readin' the play. Except until now, I would tell _mon_ self, we, our father's sons, will _do_ the same." Lafayette lightly snorted, "and now we have. So, where do we go from here?"

Thaddeus' eyes fastened on his brother's. "We survive. We move beyond all this fire, blood, and the fuckin' hell we have suffocated under these past years."

"How?"

Thaddeus gripped his brother's hand. "It is something you will solve. I know you will. I have faith in you."

" _Merci_ , I think." Lafayette's attention drifted to thoughts of Celia, his eyes going to the closed door that opened on the rest of the house. " _Non_ , I will figure it out. I will, for all of'n us."

"That is why I have faith in you." Thaddeus squeezed his hand before releasing it. "And I have something which may help." Standing, he returned to the pallet and, from beside it, retrieved the pair of envelopes. "I had Fox and Moses check to see if'n there was any mail waitin' us in Lone Jack." Lafayette looked at each, "Josephine and _Grand-mère_."

"You want to read 'em or have _moi_ do it."

"I am tired and would prefer if'n you would."

"Well, let _moi_ light a lamp."


	56. Chaper FIFTY-FOUR

Chapter Fifty-Four

**21 st of April 1863**

**LS, Louisiane**

_Mon Gran Fils_ ,

The rheumatism that plagues _m'_ hands keeps _moi_ from writing as often as I wish. However, every day you are in _m'_ thoughts and prayers. I have all your letters read to _moi_ , and as the matron of our _famille_ , I do mean all.

Lafayette released a soft grunt.

Peeking up, Thaddeus asked, " _Qu'elle_?"

"Thinkin' if’n that be true, it cannot be _bonne_ for either of'n us. Go on and read."

It has come to _moi_ there is much you are leaving unsaid. Yet it still comes through in your words.

Thaddeus stopped reading to ask, " _Qu'elle diable,_ does that mean??"

"If'n you would cease askin' questions, we would find out a whole lot damn faster."

I know much of our correspondence is destroyed or, at least, lost by those northern oppressors. Thus, I pray this particular letter makes it to your hands, for it is not of home I will be writing, as you receive this sort of news from Josie and Connor.

Thaddeus peeked at his brother, and Lafayette shook his head, pointing at the letter.

Where should I begin? I believe the most suitable point would be with the Great Sun King Louis. He was considered a genius who ruled without the aid of ministers directing him. Moreover, he promoted men of talent and valor, even raising one's social standing if he deemed a man worthy. Additionally, Louis was also a soldier.

"Do you--"

"Tad!!"

"I know read...but _who_ is she talkin' 'bout?"

Knowing his brother would not move on without an answer, Lafayette stoically replied, "It is King Louis XIV of France. He ruled for over seventy years, dying…hmmm, I believe in 1715."

Thaddeus nose wrinkled, " _Qu'elle_ has this to do with us?"

"We ain't ever goin' to find out at this rate."

With a half-grin, Thaddeus searched the page for his spot.

The Sun King enjoyed campaigning alongside his _Infanterie Francaise_. It was here, a soldier, a _fils_ of a mere fisherman demonstrated such repeated valor for his King and Country, that Louis conferred on him _lettres de chevalerie héréditaire._ Making him a member of the Sun King’s Court as a _petite noblesse_ with his _nouveau_ title of _Monsieur Chevalier_ Begnoir.

" _Chevalier_ means knight?"

Lafayette nodded.

I wish you both to understand and hold close to your heart, our famille is a direct descendant line of _Monsieur Chevalier_ Henri Begnoir.

"That mean we are _chevaliers_?"

Lafayette chewed at a corner of his mouth, "well… _lettres de chevalerie héréditaire_ essentially translates to letters of knighthood hereditary. So _oui_ , I would say we might be." Lafayette's dimples appeared with a shrug, "but, as we are not in France, the title is irrelevant."

“A knight…hmmm?!” Thaddeus' excitement sparkled in his grin, “I still think it is pretty damn ace high, _mon_ self."

A smile spread across Lafayette's face. "Suppose it is. _Qu'elle_ else does she have to say?"

Although sadly here in the Americas, being _petite noblesse_ is immaterial. Except it is not. For it is who we Begnoirs are, and in our family archives, you may read tale after tale of Begnoirs who strived to be as valiant as _Monsieur Chevalier_ Begnoir. I have written this as I want you to be aware of the blood which flows within you as it is how I see each of you.

Thaddeus lowered the letter, but before he could speak, Lafayette said, "uh-huh, keep readin'."

Because you are Begnoirs, I know you are doing the best possible for one another and your men. I can assert this, as quite, honestly, nothing less could be expected from a Begnoir.

Which takes _moi_ back to the beginning of this letter, where I stated you are leaving much unsaid. _Qu'elle_ I have gleaned is distaste and loathing building in each of you, not merely for this War, or your role in it, but also for yourselves.

 _M' chéris,_ it is known war grinds people beneath its wheels, even more so when it is forced on a Society by the greed and tyranny of another. Yet, I implore each of you to remain faithful to yourselves and your blood. Do not allow the baseness of war to destroy who you are.

War in all its visages is terrible. However, it is also inevitable that the world has and will be filled with hatred and sin throughout time. As evidenced in Ecclesiastes, ‘ _there is a time to love, a time to hate, a time for war, and a time for peace._ '

It is this way as violence lies dormant within men's hearts, and when the flames flare, it can only be quenched by battle. In the beginning, the battle campaigns are brilliant, waving banners and blaring trumpets that stir your soul, making one feel triumphant and alive. Yet, as weeks march into months into years, it shifts to exhaustion, fear, and death until there seems to be no goodness left or _raisons_ to march on. This is where you presently are.

Thaddeus fell silent, staring hard at the page. Lafayette did not pressure him, and after a long moment, Thaddeus began reading once more, his tone much softer.

You have learned war is far more than banners and trumpets; it is also death and the desire to return home. But as the Sun King understood, it is also valor.

Valor is achieved in honoring those you lead, even more than yourself. When a man gains this knowledge and adheres to it, he becomes a true leader. Other men recognize true leaders, aspire to accompany them, proclaiming they are part of such honorable, even heroic valor. It is why men proudly followed Napoleon Bonaparte across Europe, and here they followed George Washington, Andrew Jackson, Sam Houston, and even now, Robert E. Lee.

I have culled from your letters the _amour_ you hold for your men. Your every thought is centered on them. You have learned the importance of ingenuity and wise measures—each decision being more calculated than the last, as you endeavor to protect your men.

For in war, you are not merely soldiers, but brothers, and there is little in this life so painful as losing a brother.

Sorrow is the burden of a true leader. Your men's deaths haunt you in the dark of night when you close your eyes, when you enter a conflict, even when the sun shines full in your face. It is _bonne_ to grieve them, for it is the measure of a true leader. However, _m' chéris_ , you must not allow grief to swallow you.

When one of your _amis_ falls, speak often of them, savor the memories you share, and through each of you let their spirits soar--never to be forgotten. Above all, you must not condemn yourselves for their deaths as not _une_ of them would want this. Furthermore, to do so is to sully all they stood for until their final breath.

I surmise some of what I have written was hard for you to read. Yet, as you support your men, bolstering them up when they need it, I conjecture you do not do the same for yourselves.

You are _bonne_ , noble, true leaders. You are _chevaliers_.

Your men believe in you.

Thus, you must not violate their faith by not believing in yourselves.

Hold your heads high, _jamais_ forget you are _petite noblesse_. Remain faithful to it, as you are to those about you. May _Dieu's_ light shine on you and your men as you defend those unable to preserve themselves.

Extending the letter, Thaddeus said, “ _m’ François_ ain’t _bonne_ enough for this.”

Frowning slightly, Lafayette took the page, scanning what Thaddeus was gesturing to. “Ah! She wrote this part in _François._ I deemed she hoped others could not read her personal words to us.” Taking a breath, Lafayette read.

_“My sweet grandsons. My Begnoir Knights. I have the utmost faith in you; each day, I pray our dear savior will allow us to be once more together. My dear Lafayette, my dear Thaddeus, neither of you are ever to doubt how much I love you. Despite anything this war has caused you to do, I shall always be proud you are my grandsons, loving each of you until my last breath.”_

Carefully Lafayette folded the letter, returning it to its envelope before looking to his brother.

"How did she know, Lafe?"

Lafayette sniffed hard, answering. "I do not know."

Running his hand across the second soiled envelope lying in his lap, Thaddeus said. "I am positive Josie's will be lighter; I just ain't..." He shook his head, placing it on the side table.

"Me neither." Lafayette flashed his brother a tight, quick smile. "But I do appreciate _Grand-mère’s_ words. They struck to the core, yet they were _bonne_ to hear."

"Still do not understand how she knew, right now, how much we needed to be told all she wrote.” Shaking his head, Thaddeus suddenly stood up, and clearing his throat, looked about the snug cabin. "Think I will see who would like to go huntin'. I want a _bonne_ stock of meat here for y'all afore we head out."

"That is a fine idea." Lafayette studied his brother, who was once more considering the room. "Taddy?"

Thaddeus looked his way.

"You all right?"

"Yeah." Thaddeus rolled his eyes, "or I will be. Just need some time to think over all _grand-mère_ wrote."

" _Moi,_ also."

"Want _moi_ to stop in when I return?"

" _Oui_."

Grabbing his hat from the hook by the door and his boots, Thaddeus smiled at his brother. "She is correct; you are a true leader."

"As are you, Thaddeus Robert, as are you." 

Thaddeus nodded, "well, off to see who is up for huntin’ _._ " And stepping outside, he breathed deeply of the night air, turning toward the barn where the Rangers were camped.


	57. Chapter FIFTY-FIVE

  
  


Chapter Fifty-Five

**Monday 13 th of July 1863**

Easing open the door separating the cabin and the rest of the house, Malissa stepped in, balancing a tray of food.

Like Celia, her Irish heritage blazed forth, and today her flaming red carrot curls had been constrained in a bundle at the nape of her neck that accented the sharp lines of her angular face. Shifting the tray, she peeked to the bed to find Lafayette smiling at her. "I apologize. Did I wake you?"

" _Jamais_ apologize when you come bearing food, Lis."

She smiled, her milky blue eyes crinkling until they about disappeared, and shook her head, "it is Malissa or Lissa."

With a grunt, Lafayette elbowed himself into a more seated position. "That so?"

Setting the tray of eggs and biscuits on a chair, she seated herself in the other. "It is."

"Still, I deem _m'_ _sobriquet_ for you will be Lis as you look like a Lis _."_

Glancing to the food she had brought him, she casually asked, " _Sobriquet_?"

“ _Famille_ pet _nom…_ name.”

"I have one of those.” She nodded, knowingly, “it is Lissa."

Lafayette beamed out a dimpled smile, "yeah, but I wager folks in town also call you Lissa."

"Some do."

"Then that ain't a _famille_ pet _nom_ it is only a shortening of'n your everyday _une._ "

"Is that not what Lafe is?"

" _Oui."_ His smile spread across his face, "'cepting I only allow _famille_ to call _moi_ Lafe."

Swallowing her laughter, Malissa set the plate in his lap.

As Lafayette bit into one of the buttered biscuits, she stated, "seems I have noticed some of your Rangers referrin' to you as Lafe."

Chewing the bite down, Lafayette replied. "That would be Jackson. He and I been _amis…_ friends as far back as either of ‘n us can remember; he is more a _frère_ …. brother."

"And Brody?"

"Oh, now Brody, he is different. He was _m' gran frère…._ Big Brother Gabriel's _ami_ and Brody’s known _moi_ since I was…" he took another bite, holding up two fingers.

"Really?"

Lafayette nodded. "He and Gabe saw each other as _frères._ These years, Brody has ridden with us, he has…well, I do not want to say he stepped into Gabe's place, 'cause that ain't right. But Brody has watched over Tad and _moi_ same as a _frère_. Could I _s'il vous plaît_ , get that from you?" Lafayette nodded toward the steaming cup, popping the last of the biscuit in his mouth. Taking the cup from Malissa, he peered inside. "I was hopin' for _café_."

"Coffee?”

Lafayette nodded.

Malissa chuckled, “it is goin’ to take me a bit to get used to how you and Tad talk."

Lafayette raised his brows at her, even as he shoveled in half a fried egg.

"Do not be lookin' all innocent at me. We both know exactly what I am referrin’ to, and as far as coffee. We have not had any coffee around here for weeks."

"I will have some brought in from the barn."

"Thank you, that is awfully kind. But you…” Malissa grinned wickedly, “will still be drinkin' bone tea. Your Doc had us boil up a whole pot for you."

A corner of Lafayette's mouth twitched, and he took a sip from the steaming cup. "I will have to remember to thank Jackson."

Malissa squinted at him. "Why did I do that terrible makin' it?"

" _Mes apologies_ , it is not your cookin'." He glowered at the cup, "I ain't _jamais_ cared for the slippery feel of bone tea."

"I would say you will have to take that up with Doc."

Hearing a noise, Malissa’s eyes shifted to the open back door in time to see JT taking a seat on the ground under the covered porch alongside her son, Ambrose, who was playing marbles. With a warm smile, she reverted her attention to Lafayette. "I noticed at breakfast that JT was callin’ you Lafe rather than Captain."

Lafayette's eyes wandered to JT, who was sticking his tongue out at Ambrose, who was giggling at him. Cutting up his last egg, Lafayette ate while continuing to observe the pair.

After a time, his eyes came back to Malissa to find her just as intently observing him. "As JT will tell you, he ain't quite right." Lafayette's mouth twisted into a half-frown, thinking, ‘ _toujours_ loathe talkin’ of JT to others, feel like they will judge ‘em afore they know ‘em.’ He bit into a biscuit, staring at his plate as he chewed. "Ain't much wrong with 'em. It is just that JT is the type who gets taken advantage of 'cause he ain't as clever as most. Does not happen often, 'cause his cousin, Clyde, watches over 'em."

Appraising JT again, Lafayette's tone became wistful. "We all grew up together. JT and Tad are the same age, and Clyde is…was _m'_ age. 'Cepting Clyde…" He set the biscuit down, pushing the plate away. "well, he was _une_ of'n those buried under your Oaktree."

Malissa nodded, tenderly saying, “I had heard that."

"In the early dawn hours, JT had a heavy break down, and Brody brought ‘em up to speak with _moi._ He is pretty torn up 'bout Clyde…" Lafayette smiled tightly. "Suppose we all are. JT told _moi_ he was scared 'em bein' all alone now with Clyde gone to heaven." Unconsciously, Lafayette shoved the plate further away. "Clyde and _moi_ were _bonne amis_ and, I informed JT he was not alone, ‘cause Tad and I were his _famille_ now. He asked if’n he could call _moi_ Lafe just like a _frère_. Told ‘em of course, ‘cause that is _qu’elle_ he is." Clearing his throat, Lafayette took a long drink from the cooling cup.

Malissa squeezed his forearm, then picked up the plate, setting it back on the tray.

“ _Mon_ Mams taught us ain’t anything as important as the bond with your _famille._ Only _famille_ ain’t _toujours..._ always made from blood but _amour…_ love _._ ”

"Sounds like a smart lady."

Lafayette passed Malissa one of his true smiles. "She is. It is 'cause of her, I knew bringin' JT into our _famille_ was the correct choice."

There was a round of laughter from outside.

Lafayette and Malissa both turned to the merrily chatting pair, playing marbles together.

"Ambrose sure has takin' to JT. All he has had for too long is his baby sister." Malissa lightly shook her head. "He tolerates Charlotte 'cause she is his sister, but she is too young to be a decent playmate for 'em."

"JT is stayin' here with _moi_ when the Rangers take their leave."

A glow came to Malissa's eyes. "I am quite pleased to hear that. Both for Ambrose and me, as JT is always offerin’ to help."

“That is how he is." Tipping his head back, Lafayette swallowed the last of the tea in a gulp.

"Hey, JT, appears Brose is whippin' you at marbles." Thaddeus said stepping up behind JT where he sat, scrunched over the marbles next to JT.

Looking up with a wide, sloppy smile, JT giggled, "He is Taddy. He might' en need to give me lessons."

Squatting, in the smooth, soft broom swept dirt, Thaddeus picked up a Colt revolver. "JT, _qu'elle_ has been said, 'bout layin’ pistols in the dirt."

JT's long face reddened. "I done told Brose not to touch it, Taddy."

Blowing his red bangs from his eyes, Ambrose sat up from where he was hunkered over to shoot his marble. "He did, Mr. Tad. But it is okay. I saw it there before he told me, and I was not goin’ to touch it. Mama taught me; firearms are dangerous. So, do not be worryin', Mr. Tad."

Thaddeus beamed at Ambrose, "right fine to hear. But it is also dangerous for a revolver to get dirt in its shootin' mechanism." He cocked an eyebrow at JT.

JT gulped, "I know that. Clyde taught me that. Just got to playin', and it was jabbin' me in my belly. So, I moved it, and I plain forgot. If'n Clyde were here..." His chin dropped to his chest.

Fast as he was known to draw a revolver, Thaddeus' arm was about JT's shoulder. Soft and low, he cooed, "Hush now." Snugging JT in, he said. "How 'bout while you are here, you keep this _une_." Thaddeus tapped the handle of the Colt in JT's holster, "and I will take this, and your others inside. That way, you do not have to keep track of'em."

"That would be great, Taddy, thank you."

Lafayette slanted an eye to Malissa, "see, he is kind of like an overgrown kid."

"He is sweet."

"Ain't a mean bone in JT's body…." Lafayette's voice tightened, recalling the account of JT standing over Clyde. "…. unless someone he _amours_ is bein' hurt."

Intentionally, changing the subject, Malissa nodded toward the door, "speakin’ of love."

Lafayette's whole demeanor brightened on seeing Celia squeezing past Thaddeus and JT to come inside. " _Bonjour,_ _Chérie,_ been enjoyin' time with your _sœur._ Although it ain't kept _moi_ from wonderin' where you were."

"Tad and Fox rode in with two big mule deers and since you were sleepin’ nice and sound, I went down to assist Teague and Buster with butcherin'. Took a bit longer than it should of because we all got to jokin'."

Coming in, Thaddeus peered in the bucket gripped in Celia's hand. "Those sweetmeats ain't for Lafe, are they?"

Celia snapped off a nod, saying, "Jackson told me they would help ’em build his strength after losin’ so much blood."

A giggle escaped from Thaddeus, as he said. " _Bonne fortune_ tryin' to get 'em to eat 'em." He maliciously grinned over to his brother. "He does not like sweetmeats."

"Like 'em or not, he is goin' to eat 'em," Celia answered.

A full-fledged snorting belly laugh broke from Thaddeus.

"Celia, _m’ Chérie_ , you cannot be goin' by everything Jackson tells y'all."

Arching a brow at him, Celia responded, "If’n it comes to you improvin', I will listen to anything _Doc_ has to say and follow it to the exact letter."

Thaddeus’ laughter grew louder.

Turning on him, Celia ordered. "Stop that! You gettin' Lafe riled up is not goin' to assist me gettin’ these down ’em in the least."

"Oh, I would not fret." Thaddeus threw his chipped tooth grin at his brother. "I got _moi_ a feelin' he will not argue any with you, Celia."

Lafayette's eyes narrowed.

"Not if'n he _vraiment_ is as smart as our _famille_ likes to claim."

A whimpering cry came from the house. Standing swiftly, Malissa took up the tray of dishes. "Sounds like lil' miss is wakin' from her nap." As she left the room, she paused, nodding toward the bucket. "You want to cook 'em, Celia, or me while you entertain Charlotte?"

Celia tilted her head, studying Lafayette, and then a grin rounded her cheeks. "I will. 'Cause, certainly, as Tad said, he would not be so foolish as to decline food I cooked, especially for him."

Thaddeus chortled. "Guess we are 'bout to find out how smart, Lafe is."

“Tad!”

Thaddeus’ looked over with arched eyebrows, “hmm, _Frère_?”

"How 'bout you fetch Doc so I can talk with ‘em."

Putting a hand on her hip, Celia frowned, saying, "You leave Jackson be. He has worked himself weary and does not deserve to have his Captain chewin' on 'em." Coming over, she gave Lafayette a quick peck on his cheek. "Despite what you might get ‘em to agree to, do not consider for one second, it will keep me from bullying you into doin' anything required to get well." Grinning, so her face was alight with mischief, she passed Lafayette a wink. "Well, need to get started. You prefer floured and fried, or stewed?"

"I prefer neither."

"That was not an option."

There was a distinct snorted laugh from behind her.

Celia playfully snapped, "Taddy, stop helping.” Raising her brow, she said. "Well?"

"Stewed."

"See, that was not so hard." She grinned, "I will have 'em ready for your dinner."

'Fuckin' grand,' was the thought that traced across Lafayette's mind. Instead, he flatly replied, " _merci beaucoup,"_ as she slipped from the room with a final smile.

Placing JT's three pistols on the fireplace mantle, Thaddeus came over, plopping in a bedside chair.

Once he looked good and comfortable, Lafayette said, "I would like some _café_."

"You ain't had any?"

"Apparently, the _mesdemoiselles_ have not had any for a few weeks."

"Well, damn."

"You goin' fetch some up here?"

"Nope." Thaddeus crossed his feet in the chair across from him. "Watch this…. JT, could you and Brose find some _café_ beans down at the barn and bring 'em up to the kitchen? Seems they been out for a while."

JT hopped right up, "I would be happy to. Wish Mrs. Malissa had said so earlier; I would of brought ‘er some right away."

As JT took off with Ambrose as his shadow, Thaddeus toothily smiled over at his brother.

"You best not be gettin' notions that JT is your servant."

" _Zut!_ Lafe, you know _moi_ better than that." Thaddeus snorted, "fuckin' hell! I did not want to go, ‘cause…" He nodded to the pair of envelopes, still lying on the table. "I thought we might read Josie's letter."

"Goin' have you read again."

“ _Qu’elle_? That ain’t fair.”

"When I talk for long spells, _m'_ lung starts to achin'."

Thaddeus sobered up, sucking in all his arguing. Leaning over precariously, not bothering to lower his crossed legs, he retrieved Josephine's letter. Opening it, he unfolded the pages but stopped to scowl at his brother. "Turn JT into _m'_ servant, _Jésus a pleuré_ , Lafe."


	58. Chapter FIFTY-SIX

Chapter Fifty-Six

**February 3, 1863, Louisiana**

Good Day, F _rères_ ,

My life is so different from what I had supposed. Although, to be honest, I am not sure what that was to be. I imagine I held it would continue as it always had.…. happy, comfortable, my father’s pet, and my brothers’ pal, forever at Sienna. Sometimes, my mind drifts back to our life there, and I become lost in the memories until they overwhelm me. 

I should not be writing this to y’all, as it is simply a path to melancholy. However, I have put so much to paper; I never know what reaches you and what has not. See, the way of it is, I assure myself, as long as I write, y’all are fine. You just do not have occasion to reply as often as I wish.

There are moments; I would offer about anything to wrap my arms around you and laugh as we used to. When I look back at how we would feud and scold each other, it seems so idiotic. All those times of happiness lost to hot-headedness. Oddly, I find I even cherish the memories of our tiffs. ----- All right, I took a stroll on the rooftop terrace to clear my mind.

“Hope that means this,” Thaddeus waggled the letter, “is goin’ to get cheerier.” He peeked at Lafayette, “I _toujours_ look forward to Josie’s letters.” He shrugged, “they make _moi_ smile.”

“I agree on all points,” Lafayette replied, scowling some, at the letter hanging lax in Thaddeus’ hand.

I have heard that folks have renamed the rooftop terrace… “a widow’s walk.” I learned it is because so many ladies use their terraces to watch battles happening about them. Here, at LS _,_ we have been blessed in not being able to do this. They seem to take place in port towns and along the eastern and western borders of the State. None of us are sure how this is; we have been most certainly blessed to live in an area that seems to mean so little to troop divisions. But it is not something any of us wish to alter by thinking too much on it. Truthfully, most days, it is hard to remember there is a war going on. Well, other than missing Jonathon, his brothers, and y’all. Still, I shall never call LS’s terrace a Widow’s Walk. I do not like the connotations whatsoever. 

Anyway, I took a respite from writing to walk in the open air with a glass of wine. Admiring the long rows of Live Oaks, gardens, and beyond to the stables and fields helps relieve my sadness when it wells up. And I do not want to write sadness to y’all, as I am sure sadness surrounds you even as you read this.

Each brother shifted uncomfortably, not saying a word.

I received a glorious letter from Jonathon’s brother, Lucas. The maladie which struck Jonathon, trapping him in a trade port, has released its grip. Thank the Lord; he is on the road to recovery. Which means soon my husband will board a ship for home. I do not know when. I am just relieved I will again be able to bask in his nearness, hear his laughter, and see him with our daughters. 

Speaking of our daughters, they are growing so fast. Lizzie is walking quite well. She no longer holds to furniture as her twin does. She firmly…well, she wobbles some…but strides right out across the middle of a room. It delights and amazes me how fast her little legs can carry her. Now, Nettie still clings to furniture. And I do mean clings. She has become quite the climber, a little monkey. 

A chuckle lifted from Lafayette, “sounds like they are keepin’ Jo on her toes.”

Y’all would not believe the spots I have pulled her from, just makes my breath clench tight in fear of her safety. I told Mams I wanted to leash her. Well, Mams is against this idea. And whenever I bring it up, she glowers at me with a look I thought was reserved for y’alls blasphemy. 

Thaddeus said, “ah, hell, not that _une_.”

“I have sure as hell seen _m’_ fair share of it.” Lafayette shook his head, “you know, I am not the least bit surprised _Mams_ is ‘gainst leashin’ Nettie. Do you not recall her rants ‘bout any talk of someone havin’ a porch _bébé_?”

“Yeah,” Thaddeus answered, grinning big enough, his nose wrinkled. “You would think Josie would have recollected that.”

Releasing a snort, Lafayette shrugged. Then winced, hissing through his teeth, at the pain he caused himself in his shoulder, which made Thaddeus snort.

To end our circling debate, Connor rode to Abita Springs, hiring a live-in governess. She is of French descent, which surprised me, for it seems every soul Connor hires for LS comes from the British Isles in some way. Honestly, I am not sure how he finds all of them. Anyway, LS now has a governess. Madame Matilda “Tilly” LaCelle and her girls Clémence, age six, and Colette, age four. Seems her husband died at the Battle of Slaughter’s Mountain, and even before his death, she was struggling to survive. So, now, thanks to Connor, she is part of our home. Despite the sorrows life has heaped on Tilly, she is a happy spirit, I greatly enjoy chatting with her, and her daughters are just as pleasant. They are constant guardian playmates for my girls. So, with Clémence and Colette about, no leashing is needed. Therefore, Mams can save that particular look for the pair of'n you, as I have found I do not much care for it at all. 

Half under his breath, Lafayette muttered, “I _jamais_ cared for it, _mon_ self.”

My girls are full of such mischief. Mams says I am incorrect. That they are filled with curiosity and it is a sign of how clever they are. I hope she is right. But, personally, I still think it is mischief. They do so much that makes me grit my teeth. Like when I tell them ‘no.’ They smile at me and go right on doing precisely what I just forbid. Sometimes I get frustrated to no end, and to make matters worse when I am, Mams laughs and laughs at me. Would you believe she claims they are a dose of my own medicine?

Lafayette laughed at this, and Thaddeus lowered the page chuckling out. “Imagine that Josie getting’ a dose of ‘er own medicine. And damn it to hell, I sure wish I were there to see it happenin’.”

Lafayette replied with a chirking sound, “as do I.”

Still, I love them. Oh, but how I love them. Each day, I can see how they are moving further from the fragile babies I once cradled so close to the rumbustious children I am able to share my world with. Oh…but not talk with. I say this because they are creating sounds, not words. Not quite the right description of what they do, but it is as close as I can put into writing. Anywho, the pair of them understand these sounds, and they babble and babble at each other in this peculiar language. While not uttering one word of ours. Mams keeps telling me not to worry, ‘cause you and Dora did the same. She decided it was a language of twins. She said y’all kept on with your special speak, even after you started talking with ours.

Lafayette said, “now that it is brought up, I remember that.”

Thaddeus grinned, and it was the first time Lafayette could recall this happening at the mention of Dora’s name. “We used bits of it until…well, actually we _jamais_ stopped.”

“ _Vraiment?_ ”

Thaddeus nodded.

“Like _qu’elle_?”

“It does not translate. Josie’s right. It is more sounds than words.”

Lafayette’s mouth quirked to the side as he scrutinized his brother with new eyes. “Grow up side by side, and still there are times I find I do not know you as well as I thought.”

Winking boldly at him, Thaddeus answered. “That is because I am an enigma.”

“ _Feu de l'enfer,_ I ain’t heard that in forever.” Lafayette chuckled. “Leastways, it sounds like you finally discovered _qu’elle_ enigma meant.”

“With everyone callin’ _moi_ it for a whole summer, I had to.”

“Not the whole summer, ‘cause you threw such downright fits over it, Mams forbid the word to ever be used again.”

“Humph, that why it stopped.” Thaddeus shook his head with a snort. “Y’all were fuckin’ merciless with it, and all the while, I thought y’all were callin’ _moi,_ an _imbécile_. So, I had to find out what it really meant. Hardest part was figurin’ out if’n it was Creole or not and then how to spell it. And if’n you do not recall; y’all refused to help on that part.”

With bland innocence, Lafayette drolly stated. “Mams forbid the use of it.”

“Like her forbiddin’ anything stopped y’all before.”

Lafayette chuckled, “who started that anyway… Brody? Gabe?”

“Nope.” Thaddeus waggled his eyebrows. “Katharine. I tell you, once I learnt _qu’elle,_ it meant, I decided she was not teasin’. Figured the rest of you were, but not her. Still, who can say.” Gently shaking his head, he scanned the letter.

Everyone here says it will pass, especially with Clémence and Colette now chattering at them. They say soon enough, Nettie and Lizzie will be prattling on, and on and we will wish once more for when they could not speak. I do not hold with this in the least and have said so.

Strangely this too made Mams laugh. When I asked her why she told me, she was remembering how y’all would try wishing me into silence.

A braying laugh burst from each brother, and holding of his chest, Lafayette wheezed, “ _jamais_ did work.”

“ _Non,_ it did not. But there were times I fuckin’ wished, really, really hard.”

 _“Moi,_ too, _Frère Cadet_ , _moi,_ too.” 

I told her that could not be true; my _frères_ would not do that. Then she gave me _that_ look. I do not need to describe it, you know which one, and said, ‘If’n _vous_ do not wish to be believin’ _moi_ , then _vous_ can check _m’_ truthfulness with Katharine.’ Right then, I knew I did not need to ask our _grand sœur_. I knew it was true, and I just felt crushed. It must have shown because Mams scooped me into her arms like she used to when I was little, clucking about me always being a chatterbox and how none of the family would have me any other way. Except apparently, YOU TWO. Even now, writing y’all, I cannot believe y’all would try to wish me into silence?

“Ah, hell,” Lafayette groaned, “this is goin’ to come back to haunt us.”

“You think so?”

Lafayette’s face twisted, “you do know our _sœur_?”

“You figure I might survive, if’n when she started in; I squinched _m’_ face up until she asks _qu’elle_ I am doin’. Then reply, ‘wishin’ for silence.’

“I think you would be stakin’ a high risk on your survival.”

Thaddeus giggled, scooching lower in the chair. “Yep, that is _qu’elle_ I am goin’ to do.”

Well, anyway, this year, LS only put a quarter of its crops down. But from what Connor tells me, it is still more acres than I would want to walk in a day. This happened because most all the slaves up and left, which did not seem to bother Connor in the least. He just went around finding Irish families, that he hired, bringing back to live in the abandoned quarters. Only, anytime Connor is questioned about why the slaves left, he just ambles off whistling. I told GM that y’all had something to do with this. She is not so sure. But I know you both, and I am positive you did.

Lafayette raised his chin, looking smug, “and she is right, too.”

“ _Qu’elle_?”

“I told you when you came down there, I did not want to be a slaveowner. Additionally, returnin’ Jacob to Wade Maxwell _jamais_ set right with _moi._ Hell, it bothered _moi_ so I could not sleep and to make amends, I wrote a declaration for the slaves of _m’_ estate to be freed. Told Connor, I did not care _qu’elle_ it cost _moi._ He was to free the slaves and hire Gaelic to replace ‘em. Figured they are not given a fair chance, and they are people of our father’s blood, so why not.”

“Hot Damn!” Thaddeus chuckled. “Hot Damn, Lafe… _bonne_ job _, Frère._ When did you do that?”

“ _Grand-mère_ is correct ‘bout letters being lost. I bet I sent that same letter and declaration to Connor a dozen times these past _duex_ years. Well, now, finally, I know _une_ made it through. Oh…and _Grand-mère_ only thinks she has all _m’_ letters read to her. I know Connor better than that.”

“Damn, Lafe,” Thaddeus shined with happiness. “I am fuckin’ proud to say you are _m’ frère._ ”

“Only did _qu’elle_ was right.”

“Yeah, but so many fuckin’ do not.” Thaddeus shook his head again, his smile pulling every muscle in his face as he went back to reading.

Oh, here is something else, I recently had a positively strident discussion with some Confederate officers. They seemed to feel we would be perfectly thrilled to donate Sienna’s children to ‘The Cause’. Well, as you know, that damn army has already stolen some of our babies---

Thaddeus leapt up, “ _qu’elle diable_!” Gripping the letter, he furiously scanned it. “She does not say who was fuckin’ taken?!” He flipped the page like he would find the answer in what he had already read. “When did this happen? How many?!”

“It must have been in a letter we _jamais_ got.”

“Fuckin’ Hell!”

“Tad, sit down.”

Thaddeus shook his head and the letter, striding across the room, curse words flowing from him as he moved.

“Tad…. come back here.”

“It ain’t right, Lafe, to have our herd stolen by the South. Damn _fils de putes!_ We are on their side, fuckin’ fightin’ for ‘em!”

“Thaddeus Robert, _s’il vous plaît_ , lower your voice and come back here and finish the letter, _s’il vous plaît_.”

Thaddeus again shook the pages of Josephine’s letter. “Do you not fuckin’ care!?”

Lafayette shouted back. “Of course, I damn-well care.” Then he gasped, coughed, and gripped his chest with a deep groan.

Immediately, Thaddeus was by his side, his face alive with worry. “Lafe?” When Lafayette’s face remained pinched up, Thaddeus laid a hand on him, unsure what to do.

“It is gettin’ better,” Lafayette whispered, opening his eyes. “Got to remember not to raise _m’_ voice.” He took a shallow breath, “who would think a person’s voice would be so connected to their lung.”

“But you are all right.”

“ _Oui,_ and Taddy, I am damn _desole_ some of your _bébés_ were taken.”

Thaddeus’ face bunched darkly.

“I ain’t mockin’ you. I mean it.”

Thaddeus shifted to the chair and smoothed out the letter.

Well, that damn army has already stolen some of our babies, and I informed them I would not have one more taken. They got uppity, saying they would simply commandeer them. Which I knew was only a fancy word for stealing. Well, that got me damn hot.

Here, I must say, _Frères_ , thank you for your training, for it kicked in. I told those buffoons I would see them in hell before they laid a finger on our babies. Well, that and more. I would wager they did not consider me much of a lady. And honestly, I do not care one hoot. But, looking back, I do not think it was what I said so much as GM’s name that the Louisiana Colonel bowed to. Well, that and our wide-shouldered Irishmen standing ready with shotguns. Yep, most likely, those two factors encouraged those scoundrels to leave. I tell you both I am so tired of ‘The Cause’! ---- (And I do not care who reads I feel this way.)

GM reminds me to be cautious of what I put in y’alls letters, for they are most likely read several times before y’all get them. That is why, at times, my words are a bit vague, and I always hope y’all follow what I am saying. Still, I am fuckin’ tired of The Cause! Thank you, _petit frère_ , for that word. I think it often. Never do I speak it. But it sure feels as _grand frère_ would say, ‘ _très_ appro’ in this situation.

Feeling a bit ashamed for Joséphine’s language, Thaddeus said, “well, at least she picked up speech from both of’n us.”

“Leastways, mine is not goin’ to have folks whispering, ‘bout her.”

Thaddeus lightly chuckled, “ _doux Jésus,_ she does that on her own, without thievin’ _m’_ words _.”_

But I tell you people thinking a person should give all they have for The Cause is insufferable, and I cannot help it if it makes my temper snap and spark. Our family has given lives, blood, property, money, and more. I have no intention of any of those spineless, filthy fuckers getting one more damn, fuckin’ drop from us. (Thanks again, _petit frère_ …. best part neither of you can rebuke me on how not ladylike that was. But it sure felt good to say how I really feel.)

Thaddeus scratched the side of his neck, and when he looked around, the page found Lafayette smirking at him. “Maybe Mams is right ‘bout _moi_ needin’ to mind _m’_ tongue some.”

“You think?”

All right, I got to stop thinking of them _bâtards_.

“Hey, Lafe, that _une_ is you.”

Flatly, Lafayette replied, “And, you use it also.”

I do need to pass on some sad news.

Thaddeus slanted an eye to his brother, but Lafayette had leaned back with his eyes closed. Still, he could detect tension in his elder brother’s face.

In her sleep, quite peacefully, Odette passed away. She was not ill or even complained of feeling off. GM tries to cover how deep her sorrow is over losing Odette. She will not admit it to anyone, but we all know they were boon companions. They had shared their lives, preserving each other’s confidences. Even with the short time I have known Odette, I feel her absence.

Mams too was brought low by Odette’s sudden passing. She told me tales of Odette raising her and our _mère_. It makes me sad for Mams, for I cannot help but feel Odette was a Mother to her. Also, her silent passing has me worrying over Mams.

I am not saying there is anything at all to matter with Mams. She is ferocious as a badger and stubborn as a Missouri Mule and twice as healthy. But I cannot imagine being without her. Except for the brief time she was still in Missouri, she has always been with me. I have no memory of our _mère._ To me, Mams is my _mère_. Suppose y’all think I should not say such things.

I sat and considered on this and I have decided that I would bet y’all feel the same. Sometimes, I come upon Mams weeping alone, and she tells me, she regularly prays, she shall never have to grieve for any more of her babies as there is no pain to match mourning your child. This tells me exactly how she feels for all of us, and now I have myself weeping, and this is not how I planned to end our chat.

But I am out of words, so until I find more to write.

Oh, L, T, when will this damnable War end so we can all be together again? 

Love you both, Josie. 

With a sigh, Lafayette said, “grieves _moi_ to hear Odette is gone.” He sighed again, “you only briefly met her, but when I lived with _Grand-M_ ère, it came to me much of how we know Mams she learned at Odette’s knee. I am positive; Mams feels she has lost her Mother. I wish I could be there for her.”

Thaddeus folded the letter and sat silent, chewing on his lower lip, finally saying, “ _mon_ sympathies.”

“ _Merci beaucoup.”_

“Do you feel as Josie does ‘bout Mams?”

Opening his eyes, Lafayette answered. “I told Mams, to _moi_ she is _m’ mère_ the morning Father sent _moi_ South.”

Leaning earnestly forward, Thaddeus asked. “How did she take that?”

“Told _moi,_ I was incorrect to think that way and started in on the same tired lines of how _magnifique_ our _mère_ was. Except I put a halt to it and confirmed to her that it was _her,_ Mams, who was important not a _madame_ who was not a part of _m’_ life _._ ”

“Did she accept your words?”

“She did not say so.” A gentle smile caressed Lafayette’s mouth, “but I could see her happiness shinin’ in her eyes.”

“Wish I had told ‘er.”

Lafayette’s head rolled on his pillow to look fully at his brother. “Tell ‘er when you see her next.”

Thaddeus shoulder’s slumped, his head hanging low, he muttered, “when will that be?”

“I am not sure.” When Thaddeus did not look up, Lafayette inhaled deeply, feeling pain spread through his chest, and slowly expelled the air. “Tad?” His brother remained as he was, and Lafayette slid his hand across the sheet covering him toward his brother. “Taddy…”

Without raising his head, Thaddeus took hold of his hand. “I feel the fear Josie wrote of.”

“You will see her again.” Lafayette squeezed his brother’s hand, and Thaddeus finally looked up. “You will.”

Thaddeus nodded slowly, “I hope so.”

“You just have to keep tellin’ yourself; you will see all of’em again.” Lafayette gripped tighter of Thaddeus’ hand, “it is what I do.”

After squeezing back, Thaddeus pulled free, pushing himself to his feet. “you look tired, get some sleep.”

“ _Qu’elle_ are you goin’ to do?”

Glancing to the door to the house, Thaddeus shrugged. “Chat with the _mesdemoiselles_ and see if’n Celia needs any wood or water for stewin’ up that meat for you.”

A small snort escaped Lafayette, “if’n you _amour moi_ as you claim, you could somehow spill it all to the floor or something.”

“And make Celia mad at _moi._ Mams did not raise _non_ fool.” Laying Josephine’s envelope atop their _Grand-M_ ère’s, Thaddeus gently cupped his brother’s shoulder. “Go on and rest.”


	59. Chapter FIFTY-SEVEN

Chapter Fifty-Seve n

In the  deep darkness of night, s teps approached the cabin ; as  Lafayette reach ed for the Colt ,  concealed  under his bed covers , he  also heard  a squeak  from the chair s by the bed . T hen a  low, lilting high-low whistle stayed his hand .  Shifting his eyes , heavy  from slumber , to where the chairs sat, he  said. “It is Tad, and  _ Chérie, _ how long you been there ?”

Celia shrugged, “I could not sleep.”

Before  they could say more, Thaddeus  opened the backdoor, stepping into the room.  His face grooved with worry, “ saw  a candle burnin’, but if’n you were  restin’ , Lafe, a pologies for wakin’ you.” He glanced  at Celia with a touch of a grin forming , “if’n you were asleep.”

Folding the  tunic, she had been embroidering , Celia  raised  an eyebrow,  primly  answering. “He was .”

“Then honestly  _ mes apologies.  _ Zeb and Charlie  returned , shortly ago, from escortin’ Bill to  _ famille  _ with disturbin’ news.”

Lafayette's face tightened , h is worry lines mirroring his brothers ,  and while  Celia  was thinking, ‘ their  resemblance to one another  truly is  uncanny. ’ Lafayette’s eyes shifted to  her.

Reading his thoughts, T haddeus  answered , “ she should hear this .”  Sn agging the chair by the door,  he s w ung it about, straddling the seat and draping his arms over  its back.  “ The talk  everywhere is  General  Schofield’s latest plan to  put a  stop  to  Q and all  of’n  the other Captains.”  Thaddeus paused a moment, the anger rising in him easy to see.  “He  has ordered for all  of ’n our supply lines to be interrupted .”

Lafayette ’s brows  furrowed  consider ing this, and not seeing  straight out  w hat  Schofield had planned ; h e g runted, “I ain’t goin’ to like this , a m I?”

“Not at all.” Thaddeus rolled his  neck, and it popped loudly . “He  has detail ed the  Home Guard  to arrest the  _ filles  _ of known guerilla  _ familles _ _. _ ”

Lafayette’s eyes widened with disbelief,  “ t he  _ filles?! _ ”

“ They are pullin’ em __ from their homes , arrestin’ em.” Thaddeus nosed wrinkled tight, and he spat out “those fuckin’  yellow-livered _ bâtard _ _ s!” _ __ At his curse,  his mouth  clamped shut, his gaze slipping to Celia. “ _ Mez apologies _ _. _ _ ” _

With  a fearful, angry knot forming  in her stomach ,  Celia replied. “It is fine, Taddy. Honestly, makes m e feel like  cussin’ too . ”

“Ewing thinks this… _ this  _ is how to stop us!” Lafayette’s frown deepened, his eyes  darkening as his anger rose.  “ Does th at uncouth  _ chi _ _ e _ _ n  _ not realize the  levels of  rage it will  stir in all of’n us?”

“He  has declared without our  _ filles  _ spying and  providing food, shelter, and comforts ; we will fall apart.”

Celia breathed out. “Can he do that ?” Her eyes going from one brother to the next, “ c an he really haul ladies from their homes ?”

“ Ever since Missouri was placed under  martial law,  our justice system  has been ruled by the military.  Means th ose _ bâta—”  _ Lafayette stopped himself mid curse, “means  any law  G eneral  Schofield can  c onceive , he can make an order enacting it .”  Running a hand back through his hair,  Lafayette’s  eyes  shifted to his brother. “Tad, is this  _ vraiment  _ happenin’?”

Thaddeus pulled a  c rumpled paper from a pocket handing it to Lafayette. 

Smoothing the  torn newspaper sheet , Lafayette read, his face  becom ing hard as stone.

“What does it say?” Celia asked.

“ … wives and children of known guerrillas, women, who as heads of families willfully engaged in assisting guerrillas are to move from  the Frontier  and Border  District s . I f they refuse , are to be  taken to Kansas City for shipment to  St. Louis for trial if deemed necessary, or delivered to , banished, to some point within the Confederate lines. ” Lafayette dropped the paper, and it fluttered harmlessly to his lap, its words hanging  vehemently in the air.

Celia was the first to break the silence, “I am sorry, but what is the Frontier  and Border  District s ?”

“Beginning of June , General Scholfield  coined these…it is how the Union has divided  the areas they oversee in Missouri, Kansas, and the Indian Territories.  Does not matter  _ qu’elle  _ he calls the areas, any  Order released from Kansas City, is  in regard to our Counties borderin’ up to Kansas.”

Clearing his throat,  Thaddeus  passed Celia a gentle, sad smile, “ Charlie was told  Sus ie Vandever and  Armenia Selvey were arrested. ”

Celia inhaled sharp, shoving her fist to her mouth . “Those are my  twin  cousins.”

Lafayette held out his hand for her, and when she took it , he stroked  his thumb across the back of her hand. “ _ Très _ _ desole _ _ , _ _ m’ Cherie.”  _

“I loathe  bringin’ you such news , Celia .” The corner of Thaddeus’ mouth twitched, bringing his single dimple to life. “B ut I figured you would want to know.”

Gripping tight of  Lafayette’s hand , Celia shakily answered, “I do , thank you,”  a tear sliding  down her freckled cheek. 

“Worse is … ” Thaddeus faltered.

Sniffing hard, Celia resolutely said. “Tell it all.”

“Well,  they  put ’em in the  wagon ,  s hackled t ogether like  criminals . The Home Guard ’s reasonin’ is so  _ filles  _ cannot jump out and make for the woods,  like their bushwhackin’  _ famille  _ members _.” _

Celia dashed the tears from her face. “Cole and  the  boys must be livid.”

“That is  _ qu’elle  _ Charlie , and Zeb heard.”

Feeling every ache in his body that had him trapped in bed, Lafayette thought.  ‘ _ Zut!  _ I want  to  hunt those  _ bâtards _ __ down. ’ 

Once more , Thaddeus looked to his brother , reading his thoughts,  asked .  “ _ Qu’elle  _ you want  the Crowe  Rangers to do?”

Lafayette’s eyes were black as a freshly oiled stove when they  lifted to  Thaddeus. “ _ Libérer  _ any you find in custody. Patrol the neighborhoods, you know which  _ unes _ .  Introduce those  worthless Home Guard the error of their ways.  _ Jésus a pleuré _ , they should be ashamed to call themselves Missourians. Even to call themselves men.”

Rocking forward on the chair legs, Thaddeus rested his weight on the balls of his feet . “I want to stop them!”

Lafayette  fiercely snarled,  “ _ Vraiment,  _ a s do I ! ”  A cough b urst  from him ,  his face  contorting in to a grimace.

Celia moved to the bedside,  “Lafe ? ”

Holding a hand over his lung wound, Lafayette thought,  _ ‘m’  _ rage is not helpin’  _ m’ _ injury any.’

Placing her hand atop his, Celia’s hazel eyes peered imploringly at Lafayette. 

Barely nodding, he  whispered, “hush , _ Chérie _ .  Do not fret .”

“How can I not fret?”

As he worked at containing the pain, he  peered into Celia’s glossy wet eyes, marveling at the many colors in their dept h s, even as he thought,  “she and  Malissa  are Younger cousins ; Home Guard may be coming here .”  Shifti n g his attention to Thaddeus ,  he asked,  “When y’all ride, who again is remainin’  behind ?”

“You, Rance, Arch , and JT.”

Lafayette remained quiet, seeing the faces of his Rangers. “ I also want  Quin, Wade, and Hi  to  stay behind as guards.”

“If’n they say  _ non _ ?”

“I do not think they will . But  if’n they do  ask for volunteers. Only I want Brody and Gid with you that is non-negotiable .”

“I do not need the pair of’em  watchin’ over  _ moi  _ like some kid.”

Lafayette’s rage thrummed in his voice  as he snapped.  “Taddy! I ain’t havin’ t h is  _ putain  _ argument.”

Thaddeus’ eyes narrowed to slits. 

“Be pissed all you want. I am still the Captain of this  U nit, and  therefore,  I  am orderin ’ that  Brody and Gid ride with you.”

Standing a b ruptly, Thaddeus swung the chair back to  its usual p osition .  “Fine! I will talk with the  _ garçons _ __ and s ee you in the mornin’.” Without waiting for a reply, he  walked from the  cabin with his  back stiff and rigid. 

“Why did that upset him so? ” Celia asked.

“He feels I do not believe in him. And that is not  the case .  However, I also  know Brody and Gid will guard ‘em same as Tad and Brody  have done for _ moi.  _ Every leader  need s _ duex  _ solid, dependable warriors behind  ‘em , and  _ un _ _ e _ __ day Tad will comprehend that. ”

Having been thinking over  General Schofield’s orders, Celia tightly said,  “Me and Liss a are related to the Youngers.”

Lifting his hand, Lafayette caught a strand of her loose hair. Spinning it about his finger, he marveled , how  separated from the darker mass, it  resembled  the hue of  fine whiskey in the lamplight. “I know.”

“I am scared.”

Letting go of the strand, he patted the side of the bed.  “Lay down next to  _ moi. _ ”

Celia looked to the closed door leading to the house , thinking. ‘Lissa would not like that idea.’

Running  his hand up her arm, Lafayette  coaxed . “just right here, above the covers for  a bit.”

Celia’s cheeks flushed , her freckles darkening to a coffee color, and  h esitantly, cautiously, she stretched out beside Lafayette , resting her cheek on his chest . 

He tenderly stroked her bicep, where she was cradled in his arm, and  kissed the crown of her head . “ _ Par Dieu, _ I will not allow any ha rm to come to you or your  _ famille _ .”

Exhaling, she nestled closer, melting against him. 

Kissing her  forehead , he whispered. “ Close your eyes .”

Celia  released a  pent-up breath.

“Are they closed?”

She nodded.

“ _ Bonne,  _ now tell  _ moi q _ _ u’elle  _ you feel?”

For a few qui et breaths , Celia lay still then  timidly whispered. “ your warmth…strength , and I can  hear your heart.”

“Do you feel safe?”

She nodded

“ _ J _ _ e t'aime _ _.  _ I shall  _ toujours  _ protect you , Celia, t his I do swear .”

She swallow ed hard and quiet as  falling  snow a sked. “Does  _ je t'aime  _ mean I love you?”

“It does , and I do ,  _ Chérie _ .”

Snuggling  deeper into him, Celia felt her heart wanted to burst from her chest as she  happily answered .  “ And  I love you ,  right back .”


	60. Chapter FIFTY-EIGHT

Chapter Fifty-Eight

**Tuesday 14 th of July 1863**

The soft-touch of dawn was filling the room when Lafayette gave Celia a gentle shake, whispering, " _Chérie_."

A contented "hmmm" that matched how he felt rose from her.

Regretfully, he said, "dawn is near."

A small growl emitted from Celia.

Kissing her forehead, he replied, " _moi,_ too." 

Sitting up, she yawned, her eyes squinching tight. When she opened them, she gazed at him, thinking, 'I still find it hard to believe he is here.' A sparkle brightened her eyes. 'But he is." Unable not to, she smiled.

" _Matin,_ _Chérie._ "

Her head tilted a bit, " _matin?_ "

"Means mornin'."

"In that case." Celia bent to him, her lips touching his as light as an errant breeze. " _Matin_ _,_ Lafe _."_

Lafayette breathed out, "Celia…." Then with a warmth that matched the look in his eyes, he said, " _Je t'aime_."

"And I love you."

Running his fingers through the curls that had escaped to tumble along the side of her face, he casually said, "I have been awake for some time."

Celia tilted her head, reading something in him she did not quite recognize. "You have?"

" _Oui_." He reached beyond the curls, tracing the tip of his index finger along the curve of her freckled face. "Watchin' this _belle fille_ curled up against _moi._ "

She smiled, looking pleased and shy, all at the same time.

"Celia Ann Sheldon. . ." He released his dazzling dimpled smile, and taking her hand, he kissed the back of it. "Would you do _moi_ the _magnifique honneur_ of takin' _m' nom de famille_ as yours and being _m' femme?"_

Pulling her legs, quickly, under her, she sat on her knees, blood rushing to her face, and shoving the curls from her eyes, she breathlessly asked, "Did you just ask me to be your wife?"

"I did."

"Lafe." She shook her head, smiling wildly, "oh, Lafe." Bending forward, she kissed him. "Yes. Yes, I will."

His smile became so animate with affection and delight; it transformed his face to a degree of handsomeness that surprised Celia. She leaned in, placing her nose to his, " _par Dieu,_ but I do love you, Creole."

"And I you."

She kissed him lightly, but he rose into the kiss. Hungry for her, he slid his tongue along her lower lip. It was unlike anything Celia had ever felt, and a gasp escaped her. Then his tongue slipped inside her open mouth. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears, and as his tongue probed the recesses of her mouth, shivers ran the length of her body. Leaning in, wanting more of him, she slipped, and losing her balance, planted a hand on his cracked ribs.

Lafayette spasmed with a guttural moan.

Jerking from him, she yelped, "Oh, my goodness, Lafe, I am so sorry."

"It is all right, _Chérie_." Yet, even as he reassured her, she could see how false his forced smile was, for there were noticeable pain lines about his eyes. "Suppose this is our reminder---"

Celia grinned impishly, "to use restraint and conduct ourselves with decorum."

" _Oui._ "

Her nose wrinkled. "I do not feel like behaving." Then quick as a hummingbird, she brushed her lips across his. "But, I suppose I have to for a time longer."

Curiously, Lafayette's smiled turned sad.

"What is wrong?"

"Thinkin' how much I do not want you to leave." He glanced at the house door, "Lis will be up soon, and we both know she cannot find you in _m'_ bed."

Celia stepped from the bed yet leaned back over him. "I deem I need one more before returnin' to the protocols of respectability." She touched her lips to his, enjoying the feel of his mouth for a long moment and when she raised from him, she ran a hand through his dark hair, "I have loved you for the longest time."

" _Moi,_ also, and I shall _amour_ you for all _m'_ days."

She shook her head, "you make it awfully hard to leave your side." Biting her lower lip, she crossed the room, settling down onto the pile of blankets in the corner. Laying there, she beamed at the soft, shadowy patterns spreading across the ceiling, still feeling the heat and ache Lafayette's kisses had created in her. Running her fingertip over her lower lip, she wondered. 'Is he possibly havin' the same improper thoughts, as I?'

"You plannin' on risin' today?"

Celia's eyes popped open to Malissa, standing above her with Charlotte clinging to her skirt, and she thought. 'I must have drifted off.' Nodding, Celia moved from the blankets, straightening the bed. "Let me help you get breakfast together." Standing, she recalled what Thaddeus had told her in the night, along with what Lafayette had asked her. "While we do, I…" Celia's mouth quirked to the side. "…have both bad and good news to share with you."

As the trio passed the bed, Charlotte let go of her mother's dress. Edging to the footboard, she gripped tight of it, her bonnie blue eyes peeking shyly at Lafayette.

Having elbowed himself into a more upright position when Malissa came in, Lafayette grinned back at the toddler.

Charlotte's eyes widened.

" _Bonjour, petite fleur._ "

At his lilting words, the sisters turned as Charlotte began easing along the side of the bed.

Malissa chided, "Charlotte, do not bother, Lafe."

"She is all right," Lafayette responded. "How you doin' this _matin_ , Charlie?"

Malissa rolled her eyes, "Lafe?"

Flashing her a sincerely radiant smile, he asked, "You do not deem your _belle_ imp looks like a Charlie?"

Malissa's eyes slanted to her daughter with her full cheeks, freckle speckled button nose, large, round blue eyes, and abundance of honey curls. "Charlie is a boy's name."

"Uh-huh, but this _une,_ " he held a finger out to Charlotte, "has to be _une_ of the most _belle filles,_ I have ever seen." Lafayette winked at Celia. "Which is why Charlie fits her all the more."

"Tad already has all your men callin' my son, Brose…" Malissa sighed. "Is there no way to win against you, Crowes, when it comes to pet names?"

Placing a hand over her mouth, Celia smothered the giggles she could feel rising.

Charlotte took hold of Lafayette's finger.

A smile slipped from Lafayette that displayed exactly how young he was. "I would be pleased to have _m' niece_ stay for _visite._ "

Gripping the edge of the door, Malissa looked unsure. "She will be a botherment to you."

"She will not."

Then it struck her exactly what Lafayette had just said, and she turned on her sister, who was smiling enthusiastically. "He asked you."

"That was the good news I wanted to share."

Malissa turned back to Lafayette, "this is no sort of game?"

Lafayette's eyes rose from Charlotte to her mother.

At the depths of sadness, she saw, Malissa immediately regretted her flippant query.

"Quite sincerely, may the _bonne Dieu_ strike me dead if'n I were to play such a fiendish game." His eyes shifted to Celia, " _m'_ heart belongs unequivocally to Celia Ann, and I pray, I shall be all she believes _moi_ to be."

Malissa, too looked to her sister; seeing the intensity vibrating in her, she pulled her into an embrace. "Then I am happy for both of you." She turned her face to see Lafayette, passing him a smile. "Truly, I am."

“ _Merci beaucoup, S_ _œur…Sister.”_

Running a hand back through her curls, she had only tied back this morning, Malissa shook her head, "oh no, now I truly am gonna have to figure out you Crowes odd language."

Lafayette laughed lightly, as did Celia.

"Well…. we have breakfast to get on," Malissa looked to her daughter, who was tracing the outline of the quilt blocks on the blanket folded across the end of Lafayette's bed. "You sure you want to watch 'er."

"Positive."

"Still think she is gonna become a botherment." Malissa smiled at her daughter, "you call when she does."

Celia blew Lafayette a kiss and trotted off to the kitchen.

A rush of warmth expanded through Lafayette, and he asked Charlotte, "Perhaps, you can tell _moi_ how it is possible; I _amour_ your _Tante_ Celia more every moment I am near' er."

Moving to the bedside table, Charlotte gawped at Lafayette's pocket watch lying there.

Gathering it in his hand, Lafayette winked at her. "Come here, Charlie, I will reveal you its secret."

Having done so, his watch was now laid on the bedspread. Each time Charlotte pushed the latch release, a musical laugh erupted from her. Then grinning at him, she would snap the cover close and do it again.

'Wonder if'n Celia and _m' bébé_ will be so charmingly _belle_?' A jolt shot through Lafayette. 'Where did that come from? I ain't _jamais_ thought of _mon_ self being a father afore.'

Having become bored with the watch, Charlotte returned to the table and, pointing to the silver tin gilded with _fleur-de-lis,_ she cooed, "La?"

Lafayette's heart melted, and he knew more than anything, he wanted to be not only a husband but a father.

Coming through the backdoor, Jackson called, "mornin', Bub."

Charlotte froze. Her eyes riveting on Jackson weighted down with saddlebags and holsters, and his wide-brimmed hat tugged low.

Softly rubbing his hand along Charlotte's back, Lafayette purred, "It is all right, _Chérie_."

Jackson removed his hat with a smile.

But Charlotte crawled up on the bed, crowding into Lafayette until there was nowhere left to go. Once there, she turned her head just enough to peek at Jackson with one eye.

Dropping to one knee, Jackson cheerfully said, "mornin', Ms. Charlotte."

She ducked her face back into Lafayette.

With a soft laugh, he cooed, "it is all right, Charlie, it is only Jackson."

Charlotte's face turned up to Lafayette, and when their eyes met, he thought. ' _S'il vous plaît, Bienheureuse Marie,_ let _moi_ survive this War to have an _enfant_ of _m'_ own _une_ day.' He hugged Charlotte closer, flashing a grin to Jackson as he called, "Celia, come fetch, Charlie."

Rushing in, she gulped. "Everything okay?"

"Bit nervous 'bout Jackson."

Having stood, Jackson swung his hat from his fingertips, looking slightly ashamed. "Did not mean to spook her."

Gathering the child into her arms, Celia smiled at Jackson. "She just has not seen you…" She paused, thinking, 'dressed for war.' Pushing forth a smile, she said, "not this way. Let me give y'all the room."

Lafayette tapped Charlotte on the leg, and when she looked down, he waved at her. " _Au revoir,_ Charlie _._ "

Waving back, she chirped, "bye-bye, La."

Stroking a hand through Lafayette's thick, dark hair, Celia swept from the room.

Tossing his hat on a chair, Jackson commented, "sure is a beautiful child."

Lafayette nodded, still looking toward the now empty doorway.

Watching him, Jackson said, "beautiful lady _,_ also."

Lafayette grinned with the happiness of a child at his lifelong pal.

"You love her?"

Running his fingers through his hair, where she had touched him., he replied, as calmly as he could, "more than I ever thought possible and Jackson." He burst into a huge smile, losing his calmness. "She agreed to be _m' femme."_

Jackson's mouth popped open, and shaking his head, he dropped in the chair. "Congratulations, Bub." He shook his head again, "I am damn happy for you, but I have to admit I envy you, too. You told Tad, yet?"

"Only happened this mornin', you are the first I have been able to tell."

A smile bloomed on Jackson's face, "feel rather honored." He stroked his beard, "you want the others to know?"

"Not until they are well away from here."

"Do not want Celia to hear all they got to say, 'bout you."

"Not particularly."

Jackson chuckled, thinking, 'I can imagine all they would say,' and laughed harder.


	61. Chapter FIFTY-NINE

Chapter Fifty-Nine

"Before others make it up here with their farewells," Jackson shook his head at Lafayette, "let me check over your wounds."

Lafayette looked meaningfully to the door.

"Probably a decent idea." Standing, Jackson closed the house door. Coming back, he assessed his friend. "Your color has improved. How are you feelin'?"

Sarcastically, Lafayette replied, "other than hurtin' everywhere?"

"I have laudanum for that?"

Lafayette's left dimple throbbed, his eyes narrowing.

"I only suggest it to see your reactions." Flipping back the bed covers, Jackson quipped. "Sides, you might surprise me one day and say ' _oui,_ I will take a spoonful.'"

"Do not place any wagers on it," Lafayette replied, leaning forward to inspect his thigh, decorated with a fascinating array of dark striped bruises. Running his fingers over one, he said. "These ache more than where you dug the bullet out." He raised an eye to Jackson, "why so much?"

"To keep you from bleedin' out, I had to use a tourniquet. Lee rode along in the wagon, and I had him loosen and move it ever so often."

Lafayette eyed his friend skeptically.

Jackson drolly replied, "did it to save your life and leg."

Drawing back, Lafayette muttered, "oh… _merci._ "

Probing at the wound he had uncovered, Jackson replied, "you are welcome."

Becoming absorbed in his doctor's role, Jackson meticulously inspected for infection and rate of healing. When done, he said, "I want you up on that leg, by the end of the week?"

" _Vraiment?"_

"Not a lot, a little more each day, and lean on someone. I do not want you puttin' all your weight on it. The muscles need movement while they are healin'." Not waiting for a reply, Jackson began rewrapping Lafayette's ribs, he had finished inspecting. "Want these changed daily and kept snug until I see you again."

In short order, he unbandaged the left arm and felt the delicate sutures he had used to close the neck and shoulder wound.

“ _Qu’elle_ you smilin’ at?”

"Damn, fine stitchwork." Jackson winked at him, "if'n I do say so myself. How does it feel?"

"Hurts like hell."

Jackson brandished a smile, "I have—"

"Laudanum— _NON!_ "

Snorting out a laugh, Jackson placed the bulbous bell end of his wooden tube stethoscope to Lafayette's chest.

As he slid it to another location, Lafayette asked. " _Qu'elle_ do you hear?"

"That your voice is louder than your lung…" Jackson said bitterly, "…keep quiet."

Dropping his chin, Lafayette remained still and silent.

After a bit, Jackson snorted, returning the tube to his saddlebags.

"Well?"

Turning back to his friend, Jackson tried to hold onto a solemn face as he said, "thinking' you could use some laudanum?"

Wrinkling his nose, Lafayette flashed him his middle finger.

Jackson chuckled but sobered quickly. "I do not know, Lafe. It is hard to say." He frowned, his close-cropped beard bunching in rows along his face. "When I compare it to your right lung, I still deem it burbling and whistling. But I do think less than a few days ago."

"It is healing?"

"I believe so, Bub." Jackson pulled at the skin of his throat with a meek smile. "I believe so, wish I could say more."

Lafayette's brow wrinkled, and he nodded.

"While I am gone, do not move too fast. If'n it hurts…do not do it! I spoke with Celia; she knows how to change your bandages and check for infection. Her I can trust; you are another matter. So, one more time, Bub, if'n it hurts…Do Not Do IT!"

Lafayette's eyebrows rose, and as he opened his mouth to retort; Fox, burst through the backdoor. "How do, Capt'."

The rest of the Rangers flowed in after him filling the cabin.

From where he was pushed up against a wall, Buster declared. "We all wanted to see you before ridin' out."

" _Bonjour Garçons,_ right glad to see y'all." Lafayette's eyes cheerfully roamed across the jostling, elbowing crowd. That is when it struck Lafayette, and his mouth went dry. 'They are leavin' without _moi_.' Swallowing a few times, he dug up a believable smile for them.

Jimmy's face was full of open amusement as he pushed closer to the front, saying, "I be for hearing ya had a right fine dish for dinner and supper yesterday."

Peeking to the house door to check it was still closed, Lafayette grunted, "I choked it down. And Doc, _merci beaucoup._ "

"Ah, your most welcome, Bub."

"Glad ya be for liking it." Jimmy chortled, "Zeb, Marty, and me bagged 'nother deer last night. We be giving all the sweetmeats to Ms. Celia for ya meals."

Lafayette blanched, turning fast enough on Jackson, spasms of pain shot throughout him. "How long did _vous_ tell her to feed _moi_ that filth!?!"

"For a week," Jackson chuckled, "at least a week."

Dryly, Lafayette replied, "maybe you better leave that laudanum."

Rolling the twig, he was chewing on to the other side of his mouth, Micah said, "myself, I like son-of-a-bitch stew. Asked if I might'en have some, and was told no, it was all for you."

" _Qu'elle?_ "

"Son-of-a-bitch stew is what my Pa called what the Missy been makin' you. He learnt to make it from Drover's who brought cattle to St. Joe when he first moved out here."

Marty's head tilted to the side, "I be a-thinkin' it be hard eatin' anything labeled that-a-way."

"Oh, they call it that," Micah winked at Lafayette, "cause them drovers all claim it to be son-of-a-bitchin' good." He shrugged, "so, do not know what ya is complainin' 'bout, Capt'."

"Hey, Capt,' we all been talkin'." Wade said, "we are curious, if'n you plan on getting' yourself all hitched to the yoke and all."

Too startled by his words to reply, Lafayette stared at Wade, leaving time for Brody to say. "Well, as we all know, he has forever been against marriage." Cleared his throat, Brody did a fine baritone imitation of Lafayette, intoning. " _Feu de l'enfer_ , a _femme_ ain't nothing but a botherment. Ain't a chance this side of Hell, I want a _fille_ interrupting _m'_ huntin', gambling, drinkin', and tellin' _moi qu'elle_ I can and cannot do."

Reed barked, "Hot holy Hell! Right on the tap, Brody, and if'n, we ain't all heard them sentiments from 'em," He pointed at Lafayette, "since he was what fifteen...sixteen."

"You are quite correct," Quinton answered, grinning wolfishly at Lafayette. " _The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set them in my forehead, and let me be vilely painted, and in such great letters as they write 'here is a good horse to hire,' let them signify under my sign 'Here you may see Benedick_ …oh, excuse me, Lafayette, the married man.[1]"

Lafayette rolled his eyes. "Y'all are fuckin' hilarious."

Quinton answered right back. "We all feel we are, Capt'."

Lafayette managed a scowl for him, "you do recall you are remainin' here with _moi._ "

Stroking of one of his muttonchops, Quinton shrugged.

With a lopsided grin, Jonathon lisped, both of which had become traits for him since surviving having part of his chin blown off. "Ohhh, the sheer pity, havin' to stay here with the ladies, just remember, ya will not be allowed to do any drinkin' either."

Jeremiah, their youngest Ranger, leaning out from behind Jimmy, took a chance at ribbing his Captain. "That'd be true. 'Cause, my Ma's a lady, and she will get out a whip switch if'n she catches any liquor being drunk 'bout our place."

"Oh my, Lafayette." Jimmy snorted on his laughter, "be hating to think of a whip switch being taken to ya."

Zeb put in, "sure might be a sight worth seein'."

Laughing at how his brother's head pivoted from one Ranger to another, his eyes becoming darker and darker, Thaddeus raised his arms, turning on the group. "All right, all right…say your farewells and head out."

Quite suddenly. The Rangers all became serious. Then with nods, and mutterings of goodbyes, take cares, and get wells, they streamed from the cabin.

Gideon started to follow the others out and stopped. "Hey, Capt'"

" _Oui,_ Gid."

"Ya is always frettin' over all of'n us, and we all appreciate what you do as our Captain." He fiddled with the safety loop on his belt holster. "Hope ya realize they all was only jabbin' at ya, 'cause of how worried we all been. So, you take it easy, ain't a one of us who does not want ya all hale and hearty again." Rolling his shoulders, Gideon glanced at Brody, still standing near the bed. "And we will watch Tad's back… ain't a soul gonna come at 'em from that direction."

Thaddeus stiffened at Gideon's mention of him, yet as the words sunk in, it came to him. 'Oh! They will be guardin' _m'_ back not watchin' over _moi_ like a child."

Seeing Thaddeus' crooked grin spreading out, Gideon barked, "Well, lookie, lookie, who finally ciphered out we are his lieutenants and not his wet nurses."

"'Bout time." Brody dropped an arm about Thaddeus' shoulders. "If'n I had to hear you stomp 'bout snortin' over not needin' chaperons 'bout one more time, I was goin' to lay you out cold just to enjoy the silence."

Thaddeus looked over and up at Brody and swallowed hard.

Putting a hand on the door's frame, Gideon looked into the yard where the Rangers were climbing into saddles and then back to Lafayette. "Be certain; we will also ensure the hot-head does not leap before he thinks." He started to step out, then turned back, the morning sunlight illuminating him. "And Lafayette…. you make sure that purty lil' gal knows how you feel. Do not be beating 'bout the bush as all y'all Crowes tend to do."

Lafayette nodded, releasing a long sigh, looking glum. "Sure, goin' to miss y'all."

Gideon drawled, "now, do not get all teary-eyed, we all will be seein' ya again," and stepping through the door, he was gone.

Pulling out a handkerchief, Brody extended it with a braying laugh, "here is a hankie in case you cry while we are away."

A scowl hardened across Lafayette's face, "Fuck you, you big _bâtard_!"

Still chuckling, Brody tucked his handkerchief away, "Hey, Lafe?"

Testily, Lafayette snapped, “ _Qu’elle_?”

"Gideon is right, you know 'bout not beatin' 'bout the bush. You been in love with that particular filly right from the start…so do not lummox it up."

Having collected his belongings, Jackson passed Lafayette a private wink, offering his hand. When he took it, he quite earnestly said, "I will be seein' you soon enough, Bub and all Gid and Brody has said is true, so do not lummox it up."

Lafayette rolled his eyes.

Pulling his arm from about Thaddeus' shoulders, Brody pinched his vest lapel between his thumb and forefinger, smoothing a crease. "These past years, ridin' with y'all, I have become…" His mouth twisted to the side. "What I am tryin' to say is. Gabe treated me like family, and I know of late I started callin' y'all _frères._ I want y'all to know I ain't just sayin' the word…the feelin' is there, too."

Lafayette slanted eyes to Thaddeus, who shrewdly nodded in reply, then taking a breath, Lafayette addressed Brody. "We have known you all our years through the _mal_ and _bonne_." Lafayette's mouth curled into a hint of a smile. "And, yeah, you have _toujours_ been a part of our _famille_ just as Jackson has." His eyes shifted to Jackson, standing stoically by. "And the truth is we both feel the same for y'all. Jackson has known that. Suppose we should have told you the same, _Grand Frère."_

Brody's head lifted. He looked to Jackson, who nodded. Then over to Thaddeus, whose chipped tooth crooked grin was already on display.

"Where we go, _Grand Frère,_ you are _toujours_ welcome."

"Well, Hell, now I got to make sure the Lil' Spitfire does stay out of trouble." Hooking an arm back over Thaddeus' shoulder, Brody flashed a heartfelt smile to Lafayette. "You too, as you are as bound and determined for destruction somedays!"

Jabbing a thumb toward the house door, Jackson's smile appeared. "I think our labors been trimmed down. He ain't going to be as bound and determined to leap off a cliff now that Celia has tucked his heart in her apron pocket."

Lafayette smiled sheepishly, his eyes shifting from one brother to the next. "I asked 'er to marry _moi."_

"Hot Damn! Ya did it," Brody said, shaking his head with a huge smile.

Lafayette nodded.

"Did she say _oui?_ " Thaddeus asked.

Brody shoved him, "ya Dolt, he would not be tellin' us he asked if'n she had said 'no.' Can see why Lafe sometimes claims he is ashamed to admit he is related to ya."

Thaddeus turned three shades of red and grinned at his brother. "Fuckin' happy for you, _Frère_." He looked about, confirming it was only the brothers in the room, and he asked, "So did that ache that has plagued you all these years disappear?"

"It did." Lafayette grinned hugely, "it fuckin' did."

"All right, them jackasses out there are thinkin' up pranks as we all stand in here," Brody said, stepping forward; he patted Lafayette on the cheek. "Take care, see ya soon."

With a nod, Jackson and Brody moved to stand by the backdoor.

Thaddeus drew his lower lip through his teeth and stepped closer, "we will be back, most likely, 'bout the time you are pacin' these floorboards bare. Take care, _Grand Frère._ "

Feeling a lump in his throat he did not want to acknowledge, Lafayette replied. "You ride wary."

Thaddeus nodded and turned to leave.

"Tad!"

He looked back, " _qu'elle?_ "

“ _n'oubliez pas, vous êtes un vrai leader **[2]**_ ”

"Course I am. I am a _chevalier._ Ain't I?" Thaddeus snapped back, swaggering through the door.

Sitting with his bare feet pressed to the floor, Lafayette listened to Thaddeus call out, "Rangers ride," and the steady beat of the horses on the soft ground until he could hear them no more. As he did, he thought over how since returning to Missouri, every day, he had been with Thaddeus, Jackson, Brody, and the others. The lump in his throat becoming acutely painful, he thought. 'I am all alone again..." Then, as he began to feel sorry for himself, he heard laughter from the kitchen and smiled. ' _Non_ , I ain't…I have Celia, and I will _jamais_ be alone again.'

**_ Currently in production: Crowe Legacy Book Three: Agony to Peace _ **

[1] Shakespeare: Much Ado About Nothing, Act 1, scene 1

[2] do not forget, you are a true leader


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